


Abysmal

by Hyacinthium



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Blood and Violence, Brutal Murder, Drug Dealing, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Killing, M/M, Mental Health Issues, No Smut, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Self-Harm, Sometimes Adults Are Horrible, Suicidal Thoughts, Unfortunate Implications, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-19 16:08:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17604581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyacinthium/pseuds/Hyacinthium
Summary: "It's all that Shuichi can think about now and he hates it. Each time he looks for fanart and sees a deaged character, his body feels like dying.Oh.That school day ends with Shuichi holding both of Kokichi's hands and telling the smaller boy not to worry. He's energetic again, with a returned appetite too. Not a single bad thing will happen to Kokichi or him. In fact, nothing bad is going to happen to anyone ever. All those vile and squirmingly disturbing comments on that hidden, and password protected, site will never manifest into reality the many ways that Akkey so clearly desires. The things he says and makes about Kokichi's body...Shuichi is going to kill him-"-Or, Pre-game Saihara Shuichi sees something that he was never supposed to from someone he had respect for. The boy decides to take matters into his own hands. Violently.





	1. Belief and Desire Herald Opportunity

**Author's Note:**

> There's some heavy shit here that'll be evident quite fast from the tags, summary, and the following:
> 
> Pregame Shuichi is going to murder a pedophile that is targeting pregame Kokichi and various other minors after gaining enormous amounts of evidence. While planning this his mental state worsens. 
> 
> See end notes for further details if required. Please prioritize your safety. If needed, take breaks or do not read. I'm willing to write a summary of this fic and post it in comments for those that want to read but don't feel able to at this point in time.

Life since moving prefectures has been good. That's just a fact that Shuichi has come to accept, that now he can have friends that don't get scared at how deeply in love he is with Dangan Ronpa. Even to the point of having a boyfriend now, and a group of people that not only enjoy his ideas- but invite him into a roleplay campaign. Not just free-form at all. Out outright well planned Fangan storyline. It's blissful. 

A sharp tap breaks Shuichi free from his thoughts. 

Golden eyes blink down at the face of Ouma Kokichi, whose stern grip is the only thing keeping Shuichi from walking into traffic. 

"You... I kind of like my boyfriend being alive," the smaller boy says with a huff.

It makes Shuichi laugh awkwardly because, intrusive thoughts and wanting to join Dangan Ronpa aside, he really likes being alive too. Kokichi raises an eyebrow at him in response to a mumbled apology. The other boy probably has no idea what kind of state Shuichi used to be in. Before moving here and finally being able to start moving forward…

He's really happy that his audition got rejected, even though it lead to such a scary breakdown.

"I'll be more careful... I- I was just thinking about how, ah. Ouma-kun makes my life better," Shuichi murmurs as the last car drives past. 

Kokichi squeaks wordlessly at that and lurches forward instead of answering. His black hair bobs from the movement, though the other boy slows down by the time Shuichi catches up. Their shoes clack against asphalt and the paint of the usual crossing- before the sounds change to reflect soles against cement. Soon after, stone. 

A bird flits past them as trees take up Shuichi’s vision. 

Each day, the two of them exit school during lunch to go eat at a nearby park. This is their little ritual that comes from some of their fandom friends going to a very nearby college. Some of which used to go to their high school too. While he may have only transferred over in the end of first year, Shuichi has great respect for his former upperclassmen.

Peaceful and idyllic is the only way that Shuichi can describe the place. As he walks, bento in hand and Kokichi at his side- he really can't help but admire the other boy too. Kokichi has also had such a hard time. Back at the start of second year it seemed like he might relent. Now he's himself still. There's no one else that Shuichi thinks of as overwhelmingly strong. At least not among real people.

Some girls wearing the same uniform look up from a bench near a central fountain, smiling and waving before going back to watching something on a tablet. 

They step up well-worn stone stairs and across a familiar path. A place more quiet than the courtyard like area where so many students gather. It's lined by foliage that mimics a natural forest, only broken up by artistic statues and an artificial stream lined by cut stone. Gently flowing water that coaxes the senses into relaxation.

Sometimes the boy feels so happy that he expects to wake up, violently.

But Dangan Ronpa ensures a peaceful world. 

Everything before is just bad luck.

Sitting down on their usual seats, their table doubling as a chessboard, Kokichi sighs and stretches. The boy rolls his shoulders and frowns while rubbing his chest. 

"Are things...?" Shuichi tries to ask, but his boyfriend just smiles and shakes his head. 

Kokichi gives him a warm look and starts to open his bento, saying, "Not much longer now! So don't get worried about it, okay?"

Gulping to calm down the anxiety in his throat is normal, and Shuichi knows that it's not a big deal either. Kokichi is going to be more than fine. This world that they live in now is much better than before. A smile spreads across Shuichi’s face as he opens up his own lunch. Both of them prefer simple and light lunches, living basically alone, so everything inside is something that they've traded or cooked before. Shuichi privately believes that Kokichi's cooking will always be better. 

At least he doesn't burn the rolled omelets anymore.

Bird song pairs with running water a light filtering through trees. Like this, they both talk quietly about anything from the upcoming DR season to the weird creaking of the pipes in Kokichi's apartment. The noise is so eerie that Shuichi wants to use it as inspiration. Sounds like that really help the writing process after all. 

"Is that your trick? Listening to those... Horror a-em-sar?" Kokichi murmurs with a tilted head, a falsely inquisitive expression taking up his face, leaning forward on his elbows with a pickled plum captured by chopsticks. 

Shuichi laughs nervously and certainly doesn't blush, "Sometimes I just re-watch highlights, like executions, over and over until it clicks. Or reread notes I took on my uncle's cases. Just ah, don't tell anyone about the last one!"

Kokichi's lips twitch a mile a minute as he munches on that shrunken up plum, a familiar and subtle mischief making his eyes light up. Of course, the other boy is already aware of Shuichi’s 'part time job' and ideal profession. He wants to be some kind of detective no matter what. Reality, fiction, or within Dangan Ronpa and real fiction instead; Shuichi wants to dedicate himself to the things that he's loved since a child. Private investigator or police detective are both perfectly fine. Now he's just healthier about it.

It feels strange to not want to die so much, the boy muses as he chews fluffy egg. Even if nothing has actually gone away- it's absolutely true that Shuichi is more functional. He can finally get out of bed each day and breathe. Shuichi will never not be proud of that. 

"Oh, you two decided to eat over here today too?" comes a familiar voice from behind them. "Kagehara-kun and Bon!" 

Kokichi perks up and smiles, right as Shuichi turns around to see two people approaching their private little clearing. Their two upperclassmen that they role play with online. One of them just waves and goes over to a bench near a statue. Both of them are art students, good ones, so it's not surprising or rude as far as Shuichi is concerned. 

The one that continues walking and ends up standing near them is 'Akkey'. Based off of online aliases. It's normal for them to use online nicknames because of how they all met. Or rather, how they maintained friendship at first. 

Shuichi stares at the smile on his upperclassman and returns it politely, itching to ask if the man has drawn new art yet. But that would be extremely rude so instead he says, "Good afternoon, Akkey-senpai."

Deep brown eyes dart away from Kokichi and look at Shuichi before a soft grin spreads across Akkey's face. The artist's sketchbooks rest in the crook of his arms, but nothing ever seems to bother him. It's definitely admirable to see how easy going he is. He's stylish too, with dyed silver hair and good fashion sense. 

“Good afternoon to you too. You guys holding in until the weekend?” their friend asks with a casual air and a concerned glance towards Kokichi. Sharp eyes that never get scary the way that Shuichi first expected.

Before moving to this prefecture, Shuichi’s brain says, I didn't really know anyone at all. Now he's friends with such supportive and unique people. 

At some point before lunch period ends, Shuichi finds himself sitting over with Akkey's on a different stone bench. Just ready to leave but lingering while Kokichi and 'MissMisoBomb' inspect the statue that she's been drawing. He's always excited to see what it is that the older guy has drawn. Really, it's unfortunate that Shuichi himself is so focused on writing only. Maybe he'd be able to draw better if he'd pursued it as well. Oh well. 

"The ten years time skip motive would have been interesting for Bon's character," Shuichi murmurs as pages become disturbed by the wind. "She's really young in the rp, because it's a multi grade Killing Game, but the older version he came up with was really inspiring. Like seeing all her character development fully realized."

Akkey's hands pause for a moment while the wind blows past trees and stone, "His Haruka-chan definitely makes a nice contrast to the original Junior Ultimates... And she grows into a great Ultimate Escape Artist. Plus, the partnership your Ultimate Witness has with her is interesting!"

Shaking his head, the boy tries to deflect the flattery-

"Both Kage and Bon put a lot of feelings into their characters. It's endearing."

A blush grows on Shuichi’s cheeks before he turns his eyes down towards ancient yet pristine stone.

Just as the wind sends a strong gust that does not hesitate with knocking a smaller sketch book to the ground-

Open. 

Shuichi’s mouth dries as his stomach becomes a raging, twisting, cesspool of acid and too much food that can no longer digest.

It's not anatomy practice on those pages. That's the first thing that his suddenly empty brain tells him. Even as a not quite nervous laugh accompanying a tan hand swipes the book back up. Visions of a familiar character, one that Shuichi knows almost everything about, splayed out. Like. Kokichi's... 

Kokichi's young character of elementary school age. The character that Kokichi uses to try and reconcile things with. She's, this child that means so much for them both, by someone they know. 

He feels sick.

Abruptly, Shuichi becomes aware of a collection of things all as he leaves the park with his boyfriend. They're around sixteen years old. His upperclassmen, Akkey's specifically, are around 20-24. Kokichi looks younger due to a variety of factors. Shuichi has never before considered that 'young' might mean child, but there is just as suddenly a fear building into paranoia. 

Infecting his brain like cancer spreading across the body.

Everything feels like it's underwater and his heart is racing. Shuichi can't concentrate. He can't even think. All that curls inside of his brain is one overwhelming concept of terror that takes away his breathing: What if the man that likes to draw young girls getting raped goes after my boyfriend?

What do I do?

Why did I have to see that? 

It's a mistake but Shuichi doesn't tell anyone. He's not even sure why he doesn't. All he knows is that so many people don't care about these things, and that he's just one person with no proof up against people that are friends with someone much more influential. Maybe if it would be different if it were just a case of online friends. Shuichi could tell Kokichi and they could leave the group. Except that that's not what this is. 

Akkey knows who they are irl now, and it wouldn't be hard to find out where they live, Shuichi’s paranoia says.

He's drowning.

That night he sits in front of his computer and lies bold faced while digging through old conversations as if possessed. Nothing feels safe anymore. All these innocent comments and links to artists feel volatile. Shuichi’s heart stops at each point where the man seems to pay extra attention to Kokichi.

He comes across a section of private messages where they talked about…

Shuichi feels sick. He feels sick, he thinks over and over, staring wide-eyed at talk of smut and kinks and links to explicit things that he'd never considered strange before. Barely remembered and so very casual. Never has he ever realized how awfully wrong it is. That this adult who knew Shuichi’s age was sending him pornographic things as if they were candy. You're disgusting, he thinks as he reads more and more about anything at all. Wondering why he didn't see all the strange comments or register the hints. Feeling his blood boil at the trend he's seeing. 

Akkey always calls Kokichi things like cute. Now, those horrible thoughts darting around, Shuichi’s mind processes it all so very differently. Even in the game there's things that now stand out as unnerving.

'I went to help out with an all ages art class today. One of the girls reminded me of your character lol'

‘Spotted you and Kage today and you both looked really great in that cosplay. Do you wear that stuff often? You both looked like real fictional characters!’

‘Ohhhh! So you're both boys after all? Might seem weird but I couldn't really tell with Kagehara…’

‘I was wondering what a ten years younger Ultimate Witness would look like. Can I draw him?’

'Kage, I found fanart of that last Ultimate Detective and the Ultimate Surgeon. You really liked the scene where he saves her life right? It's pretty gory so have at it lol. Not exactly my thing even if I like petite girls like her.'

"I don't like that..." the boy mutters as he aggressively clicks at each hint of social media that the man has ever revealed. Each little follow or like or retweet. All of them. Possibly connections and possibly hints, evidence, and Shuichi can't stop clicking with a wince in his eyes. "I don't like that, I don't, you fucking-!" 

Vile. 

As the hours pass by too fast and too slowly, that's all that Shuichi can feel. Violated while finally hitting the spine-crawling goldmine of personal online spaces. Inside, some closed off forum that takes him hours to access, is the stuff of nightmares. 

Akkey writes porn of Kokichi and shares it. 

He'd always been tangentially aware of it. Anyone that says they aren't is blind, because it's everywhere in fandom. Dangan Ronpa always has characters of many body types. Because of that, it's easy to draw those more petite or short people as children. Shuichi’s hand clamps down on his mouse as his brain slips and slides back into terror fueled musings. If Kokichi were to join Dangan Ronpa then he'd be that character. People would draw that sort of thing of Shuichi’s boyfriend. 

People would draw that sort of thing of him too. 

Shuichi has always been aware of it in the back of his mind. He just hadn't ever cared until Kokichi's body was forcibly superimposed over a collection of lines depicting the fantasies of someone he knows- an adult that finds sexual enjoyment from thoughts of little kids.

The boy wakes up the next morning at his desk, eats nothing, and wishes he could go back to sleep instead of only having two hours. He goes to school feeling greasy and jumpy. But it'll be fine, he decides at the sight of Kokichi's worried face. Everything is going to be fine. The boy has found more than enough evidence to say that he's fully correct.

More than he really ever wanted or needed. All hidden deep down in that array of accounts.

Breakfast gets passed over in favor of shambling out the door, vision faintly muddled, and the boy feels like it takes hours to get to school. 

Shuichi blinks when he sits down and looks at his desk. I should still be walking, the gray matter in his skull murmurs. Did the bell ring or did I just get here? And suddenly there's a languishing nothing inside of him. Lacking thoughts on anything at all while people he can't quite register walk by. One nostalgic person waves her hand in his face, and Shuichi’s tingling head says that he sees her each day here. In the park. 

Akkey wants to hurt Kokichi. 

Concerned people slowly look at him with such kindness that Shuichi wants to cry. 

"I'm fine... Just got a case of insomnia!" he tells his classmates, light-headed and being sent to the nurse's office for lunch. Kokichi coming with him instead of going anywhere else is good too. Maybe Shuichi can nibble.

Walking around the halls is confusing today. Kokichi keeps having to grab him, pale hands gripping tightly onto dark fabric, and all Shuichi does is stare at floor tiles. He can't stop remembering the words. Empty- he feels so empty for the first time in months. This kind of time ignorant whiplash hasn't happened in so long. Yet, Shuichi finds himself half leaning into Kokichi's warmth as his upper body starts wobbling. 

The nurse's office is quiet, and Shuichi again thinks about how kind the people here are to him. 

So why…

Fidgeting, Shuichi obediently eats half of his boyfriend's rice as he considers things. Everyone here at least pretends to be a good person. But someone has to know about Akkey's true self. The man has plenty of friends. Plenty of people online flaunt this kind of thing or use a variety of ways to justify it. 

It's all that Shuichi can think about now and he hates it. Each time he looks for fanart and sees a deaged character, his body feels like dying. 

Oh.

That school day ends with Shuichi holding both of Kokichi's hands and telling the smaller boy not to worry. He's energetic again, with a returned appetite too. Not a single bad thing will happen to Kokichi or him. In fact, nothing bad is going to happen to anyone ever. All those vile and squirmingly disturbing comments on that hidden, and password protected, site will never manifest into reality the many ways that Akkey so clearly desires. The things he says and makes about Kokichi's body... 

Shuichi is going to kill him.

Yes, he'll make the perfect plan and then murder the person who poses this kind of threat. Shuichi knows full well how to start up too. Dangan Ronpa makes the world peaceful, and it's murders are often exaggerated or censored, but each murder remains accurate to real life. The bodies involved are flesh after all. Shuichi’s uncle is a private investigator and friends with quite a few police detectives. 

Though he's no longer living with the man, Shuichi’s life has been full of asking morbid questions. 

He's spent years in a suicidal fugue wherein his hands have filled notebooks with death. Since he was young. For so long he has fantasized about killing in order to get killed. To be remembered forever in the hallowed halls of the series that he used to be far more awfully obsessed with.

No more. 

Right, now he has a much better reason to commit murder. 

Pale hands shake erratically as Shuichi’s widely burning stare at his dropped keys. He's home but his parents won't be. What exactly would he even tell them when no one would ever see this through. There's no worth in it. Even in this day and age, the shame that comes with exposibg yourself as a victim is strong. No one would testify even if Akkey has already violated someone in the world of flesh and blood. It's unlikely that anything would be worth prosecution. 

Is it even illegal, the things that he's done? 

Drops of wetness bead at his eyelids and the boy is too much of a coward to try looking. Far too spineless to see confirmation of hopelessness. 

Which is why… Shuichi has to kill someone. 

But that's wrong. 

I'm not going to kill a person, comes a coy and charming prospect. 

Shuichi picks up his keys and remembers how those eyes dig into Kokichi's form. 

This man that wants to violate Kokichi doesn't deserve to be remembered as a person. This man that's been tricking them and coaxing them all into a state of relaxation deserves nothing. 

For a moment, thinking that- Shuichi stares at his dinner and remembers that the youngest person in their rp group is only ten years old. He slowly pushes his food away and gets to his feet. She's been posting less. Everyone has been worried. Kind, older brother like. Akkey had volunteered to reach out to her all on his own. 

Shuichi feels like he's going to throw up as he rushes to the bathroom, and yet nothing but spit falls into the toilet. 

Lingering for ten minutes means that there's ten minutes not spent on finishing school work. That means less time spent on research and planning. Unfortunate, but Shuichi can't let himself fall back into a state of constantly blaming himself. 

Doing so will just hinder his murder plans.

Pushing himself up and stumbling back to his computer is rough. A part of him wants to scream. He's going to kill a person, a human, and it's nothing like before. It's not some horrible coping strategy. Shuichi has never so clearly and cleanly wished death and suffering upon another life. But Akkey is not a person. No. No. 

Shuichi isn't going to commit real murder, he decides while compiling more and more paraphilic garbage, because this isn't a person that he's targeting. His plan isn't a conspiracy to end the life of another human being. The boy is merely mapping out a plan of attack, planning a hunt that'll lead him to slay a monster. Exactly the kind of crime that this peaceful modern world's police should shrug under a rug. 

Because there's drastically less crime due to Dangan Ronpa, the police can more easily solve them. So too, from that, is a clarity and lack of stress that means things. It's important to note just exactly how much Shuichi knows. Absolutely, what his mind locks onto is that monsters like Akkey are slain. 

No one mourns for real monsters anymore. No one tries to solve the killing of a beast. No one likes monsters unless they're fictional.

Except that maybe people like it beyond fiction, like here, Shuichi’s mind thinks by itself. It's not like there's another word for Akkey getting off to little kids. Just how you covered up your wishes to die with obnoxious enthusiasm that pushed everyone into seeing you as dirt in human form. The boy stares into his computer and at all the tabs mocking him. He has so much to do. Not going through with this is impossible. 

Kokichi...

Trembling, Shuichi bookmarks four fifths of the tabs for later. If he forces himself to go like he did last night then he'll break. All this disgust and fear will poison him until he's in the same state that he used to be. Going back into never being able to shower, wash things, unable to care all while desperately clawing for escape- Shuichi can't do that. 

Premeditated murder doesn't happen in a day or a week. 

One month is all Shuichi will allow, however.

He creates an easy and flexible schedule to follow. A path made of things tied to ironclad tasks. Shuichi must brush up on the skills learned from his uncle and from watching Dangan Ronpa. Of course, he's aware that these things and his entire goal is foolish. The likelihood of success is not inherently high. Kokichi's character would call it the kind of behavior that is the embodiment of immature stupidity. Haruka is mature like that. 

Somehow, Shuichi’s skin crawls when he thinks that. The next unbidden thought is that Akkey plays a lot of younger characters as has praised Kokichi for pulling it off so well. For being able to play a mature child that is nevertheless a child. Especially one that acknowledges her-

Please stop thinking. 

Just stop remembering all the things I thought were innocent and wholesome. Don't continue on with bringing up each thing that was so obviously uncomfortable in hindsight. Shuichi bites his lip and shudders, feeling a no longer reassuring hand on his shoulder, desperately repeating his begging to the organ that gives him intelligent thought.

'Kage, you said you liked guys too? I think I found an artist you'll enjoy. She usually draws fanart of magical girls and kawaii mascots though, so her style is super cute.’

The boy turns off the screen of his desktop and rips his homework from his bag- shoving the keyboard away too.

Uncle has a lot of really high tech surveillance devices and he doesn't mind me looking at them or even borrowing, Shuichi thinks as he solves math equations. I've practiced acting and keeping my composure since childhood, he knows. All I have to do is reaffirm trust and get something to infect his computer with, as he hears an imaginary clock tick inside of his ears. I'll just gather everything up and the police will sneer at the corpse, and as he finishes up all of his work- he knows what he'll do.

Maybe it was a good thing that he was born sick and weak minded. All those years and attempts since a young age must be worth something now. Each obsessive re-watch of blood shed that came from wanting to be the victim, finally, Shuichi can say that there was a real purpose. If his always hidden places with tiny little ‘proof of worthlessness’ can become something else… 

He'll hate himself just a bit less if he can keep Kokichi safe. 

Looking at at his ceiling with burning eyes, the boy laughs quietly into the empty apartment he calls home.

The first thing he has to do is maintain himself. The second thing he has to do is become closer. The third thing he has to do is gather information and evidence. The fourth thing he has to do is figure out and get what he needs. The fifth thing, the final main step, is to bring everything together and remove the threat against who knows how many people's happiness. 

Crime is made up of Belief, Desire, and Opportunity. 

Shuichi only needs the last.

Everything will fall into place as time goes on. That's what he tells himself while finishing up his homework. After packing it all away, the boy turns his screen back on and decides to separate his quarry into groups. Structure can only be a good idea with this. Pacing himself... 

Days go by like that. Hours where Shuichi’s plan dictates that he present himself as a confidant, a friend. And oh if Akkey doesn't end up leaping right into the trap. Nothing obvious yet, an unfortunate blessing, but the man quickly relaxes. An important lie that Shuichi feels victorious about. Kokichi doesn't seem to do anything but worry though. It's endearing and allows Shuichi to establish a less important lie: he's a bit sick. 

Upkeep on appearance and health suffers as expected- lunches and outings with Akkey draining Shuichi of his energy despite valiant acting. Each time the man gets too close to Kokichi is one where Shuichi wishes for a knife. Claws maybe, to scratch that throat open. Both Shuichi and his boyfriend are nervous about touches even though they like it. That's why he never noticed before. Now though... 

Kokichi looks so uncomfortable whenever Akkey gets too close. 

Disgusting. So disgusting, so disgusting, God he fucking hates this why can't Shuichi just kill him already for being such a worthless lying little ball of puss covered in human meat? 

Shuichi is weaker and smaller. Shuichi has to wait until his investigation is over. Shuichi just has to settle on the right knock out drug. Shuichi is patient. 

"Are... Are you sure that you're okay, Saihara-kun? It's been a week by now," Kokichi softly asks during a single and wonderfully alone lunch on the school roof. 

The boy looks away from the preventive fence and smiles, wishing that he wasn't even paler than normal. Praying that this trend of only eating one meal a day doesn't continue. School is safe though, so Shuichi swallows down the boring and easy to digest food that has sat in his mouth for a minute. 

"I'm fine! This bug should be gone soon enough," and Shuichi is lying. He gulps down his food and tries to ignore the invasive thoughts.

Wish it was winter so that I could die from exposure. 

He's not fine in general because the bug he wants to squash is a roach. Killing isn't a game in real life. Death is complicated. 

Which is why this is going to be an effectively efficient slaying. 

By the end of the first week Shuichi has fully finalized his ideal plan of attack. He's going to approach his target by getting into the man's apartment, under the excuse of needing help with schoolwork. Shuichi will bring with him a strong sheet, USB drives of evidence, knock out drugs and a knife. The knife will of course be nothing but backup. Gloves and a good hat will also be required. He'll remove any bugs too. 

Then that sheet will be used to help stage a suicide via hanging while Akkey is drugged. Shuichi’s skills and learning will allow him to do this. The guilt from being a pedophile that writes porn about children he knows will ‘finally cause him too much shame to continue living’. 

It would be nice if he could die too. 

And there's a hangout event at Akkey's place just a few days before trash pick up day. If Shuichi plays his cards right then his Opportunity is within that period. 

So he has to not only have an alibi…

But make sure that no one knows what either of them will be doing. 

Risk doesn't fucking cover what Shuichi plans on pulling, and it becomes more evident by the second week- when Akkey starts to say things just a little bit more familiar and flirtatious than before. Just tiny little compliments that should be wholesome. That would be fine from other people. Shuichi gets them often enough on his male Kirigiri cosplay. 

Are they really innocent comments? 

Cut my eyes out, please. 

People have to know, don't they. Shuichi stares at his many growing GBs of data. In just one little thumb drive, he has tons of information that people should know. It should be obvious that Akkey is like this to at least a few people. Do they not care? Do they ignore it? Do they like it too? Do they? Don't they? Did Akkey get into their rp group, not because if ignorant friends, due to the other older members not caring? Did they know? 

They may know. 

They must know. 

There's no way that these adults who have been friends for years don't know. 

They're okay with it. 

They're okay with letting their fucked up friend exist in personal spaces with children.

He wants to stop. 

They willing associate with him and like him and they're probably the same. 

They'll come later. 

“Saihara-senpai has been really busy lately! I almost didn't think that you'd make game night,” whines the single underclassmen in the group, visiting them for lunch in the park. Ayano is a small firstie with bright eyes and a sunny disposition. She's a big fan of Hope, fanatical about it, and her character has just become Chapter Five’s victim. The girl twists her bright pink ponytail angrily. 

Kokichi kindly comforts her throughout the lunch break, awkwardly patting her arm.

Akkey is looking at her the way that Shuichi sees creepy men looking at attractive women, and Shuichi wants to bash his head in. Stab his eyes out. Then he wants to walk into traffic for never noticing before. 

No one is safe. 

That Sunday, home alone after infecting Akkey's computer and phone, Shuichi learns that he is statistically the least safe. 

So much about him is laying dormant and inside of that computer. More than anything involving only Kokichi. The boy stares without comprehending exactly what he's looking at, but he's lying- but he doesn't want to acknowledge that Akkey has multiple lists dedicated to ‘Kagehara Progress’. 

At one point Shuichi had a small crush on this monster. 

It's excruciating to see that Akkey both knew and has been trying to groom him.

Reading the most recent document makes the boy glad that Kokichi has never wanted to go beyond kissing. All he can do is weather how his brain thrashes at the prospect- how his insides are churning with bile and despair at the sight of this fictional first time. The words used to describe them. Like puppets and caricatures with their faces. Moving, existing, for the purpose of satisfying someone who set himself up as a cornerstone of reliability. 

He doesn't even make it to the bathroom before his stomach expels what is mostly acid. No one is around to hold his hair back anymore. The boy shakes all alone. Unable to breathe properly and unable to see straight. If Kokichi were here then maybe Shuichi’s heartbeat wouldn't suggest that his ribcage is about to break open from the inside out. Kokichi though, if he were here, if Kokichi was here… 

Shuichi stares into the toilet and pukes again.

Hours pass before he leaves inanimate porcelain, and all he does is grab pillows and blankets before dragging them into the living room. Sleeping in that room isn't possible tonight. It's not going to be possible for the rest of the week either. 

It'll be worth knowing that this shoddy mimicry of a human can't hurt anyone. That's why he has to do it, and that's why he's the only one that can. Shuichi sighs as he settles into a plush navy couch. Less comfortable than his bed but more than serviceable. Nowhere near his computer and thus nowhere near Akkey- A buzz makes the woozy boy startle. One slow look at Shuichi’s phone reveals a new message. Gold eyes made foggy by turmoil glaze over at the name it comes with. 

A spike of something makes him flinch. 

The boy slowly allows his phone to slip onto the cold hardwood floor. Eyes full of a vivid blackness watch his fish tank glow. 

Getting up and wandering over towards the kitchen doesn't feel real. Slack jawed and watching the empty space that fills up his world with invisible atoms and microbes. It's a nice kitchen. Light colors in order to promote a feeling of freedom. White, chrome, and cedarwood. A well sealed jar of small cherry like peppers rests near the refrigerator. The contents are dried souvenirs from traveling parents. Uneasy, Shuichi’s hands near collide with the glass as he struggles to pop the lid open. The simple mechanism is too hard for him now. 

“I don't want to do that anymore. I promised I wouldn't do that ever again,” someone mutters, frantically repeating himself, “You don't get to make me do that again…”

Like a hiss- the sound of an open lid is followed by hands thrusting down to grab at the wrinkled Chile peppers that have a color reminiscent of dried blood. 

Shuichi quickly stuffs the foreign gifts into his mouth, the way he doesn't tell his parents about because then they'll stop sending him things like this, doing it over and over until drool full of capsicum frutescens is running down his chin alongside pain.

No sleep tonight. 

But he surrenders to exhaustion some time around three in the morning, swollen eyes watching fish swim, surrounded by comforting fabric and water sounds. Focusing on the agony in his punished mouth only lasts so long. Shuichi dreams that he's dancing while spiders skitter into corners. Teeth fall out from vaguely recognizable and older guests. Kokichi looks at him, alongside distant parents, and asks what's wrong. A moment of trying to explain passes- but suddenly he's looking down at Kokichi's doll like face and someone is clapping from behind them. 

The dream gets hazy after that. 

Shuichi wakes up silently, feeling nothing of his body save for large hands gripping his ‘wide and womanly mature, and usually I don't get prolonged attractions unless they're the loli or shota type, but’ hips. 

Kokichi texts him five times before Shuichi finally tells him that he's throwing up too much to go to school. 

It's not a lie. 

All the boy wants is for Kokichi to come over like he's promising to. Yet, all Shuichi can do is scramble to divert this promise of care. He wouldn't be able to handle seeing the other boy. The moment these angrily swollen eyes lock onto Kokichi, through that peephole in the door, Shuichi would burst into hyperventilating confessions. 

He can't stop anymore. He can't let anyone make him stop. He wants to cut himself again for the first time in almost a year and there are so many knives in the kitchen. Flay the skin of his hips off. 

Dirty. 

Feels dirty. 

Nothing even happened but Shuichi’s skin feels infected… 

Churning inside of his abdominal cavity, Shuichi rolls himself over until his face is nestled into the back of the couch. Pressed into coffee colored pillows that he feels a strange and intense loathing for. His light teal blanket gets bitten into while trembling hands ball up expensive fabrics. Then, eyes closed, Shuichi screams as his body curls up for safety. 

Muffled noises echo for no one to hear. 

All he has to do is kill one thing.

He's safe here because of all the locks that got changed when he moved in. Akkey doesn't know where he lives. Kokichi's apartment might not be safe. Shuichi needs to make sure that Kokichi is safe. The best way to make sure that his most important person is safe would be…

Fake the suicide faster don't risk it can't ever happen ag-

Just kill that thing. 

Easy. 

Gold takes in nothing at all as Shuichi’s raw feeling mouth bites his nails until they bleed.


	2. Compel and Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi approaches his Opportunity by securing all of the means to complete his task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're adding a few tags tonight. Less horrible than last chapter but the warnings still apply. There's a section that's essentially a really bad flashback but mostly implications again. 
> 
> I did not intend for a lot in this chapter I didn't even plan for it to be it's own but ok 
> 
> I'm not in control here  
> 🤔💦

Zolpidem. Zaleplone. Zopiclone. Benzodiazepines. Flunitrazepam. Anticholinergic drugs. Antihistamines. Carisoprodol. Cyclobenzaprine. 

Chloroform?

Maybe not chloroform. 

Shuichi stares down at his plain plate of fish, rice, salad- and tries to review where to get any of those drugs. Of course, it isn't too hard. He could probably try to make or straight up buy something from a store in order to get them. Isn't it possible to make all sorts of nasty chemicals from home, but he squashes the thought. Being home alone isn't at all a good place to be looking up how to make dangerous solutions. The fact is that he's cracking. Parts of his brain are backsliding. 

Of course they would... 

It's bad enough that he's bought the sheet and knife at stores. Even if it was in two mix and matched borrowed crossplays in two very different prefectures. There's no way that Shuichi will buy his chosen drug legitimately, and so nor will he make suspicious purchases of drug ingredients. 

Chopsticks are set down in favor of standing up. Attempting to eat when his mouth is still feeling pained isn't working. The boy sighs, frowning and rubbing at his unfeeling stomach, before going over to get plastic wrap. 

How weak of you.

Today is another day where Shuichi will be an automation at school. Going through a zombie slog that Kokichi will have to watch. Worth it though, it all has to end up being worth it. As horrible and nightmarish as this month has been. Shuichi looks at the cardboard box full of rolled up plastic, and runs his thumb along the tiny metal edges. This month is almost over now, and that means that his task will be completed. He's almost sad that visiting his uncle has proved unnecessary.

A conversation with the man that helped raise him sounds… nice. 

Rubbing away imaginary dirt, Shuichi gulps down the feeling of growing tears. He swallows again and walks into the living room that has become where he sleeps. There's no need to cry. 

Today is another day where Shuichi will be an automation at school. Going through a zombie slog that Kokichi will have to watch. Worth it though, it all has to end up being worth it. As horrible and nightmarish as everything has been. Shuichi looks at the cardboard box full of rolled up plastic, and runs his thumb along the tiny metal edges. This month is almost over now, and that means that his task will be completed. He's almost sad that visiting his uncle proved unnecessary.

It'll be better soon.

Right? 

Breathing in and out as dictated by a familiar pattern, Shuichi looks at a bright red 3:00 AM and then towards the shower. His body feels disgusting even though he just got out of it. Maybe the boy should go back to sleep for a few hours. Staying up... 

The only reason would be to contaminate his eyes further.

He shouldn't give into the urge to know anything more. This itch can't be allowed to control him, to puppet his body around and make his slippers send screaming vibrations of sound towards his ears. Shuichi has already grown to despise his own bedroom. The computer too, just the sight of it fills him with an uncontrollable dread. All the boy wants is to go back to when the light blue walls of his room made him think of the ocean, or sky, when he'd sit down to do homework and not get a flood of clawing thoughts. 

When did you ever have self-control, he wonders spitefully. 

Ones of finally understanding- knowing that this world is only mostly peaceful. That peaceful might not mean safe. 

A world where people like Kokichi aren't safe isn't worth existing in. 

The youngest member of the rp group hasn't been on in a week. Ayano is distraught for his sake, and everyone else acts that way. Not that he can trust the others anymore. Shuichi has teachers approaching him too, worried. Except that the last one gives him nightmares now. 

Gold eyes drift down to hands lingering in air. They zero in and focus on bandaged fingertips. It's too close to before, and he knows it doesn't help, but by the time Shuichi stopped he'd had blood and fingernails laying in his injured mouth. Burning fingertips from the chile oils. 

Kokichi will probably get worried, but Shuichi is too tired to feel shame despite wanting to stay home just one more day.

Even thinking about hugging his boyfriend makes the boy's body grow panicked. 

What's the point in acting like he doesn't know why? 

Clocks and alarms eventually go off as Shuichi’s zoned out head separates from the experience of not actually watching the sunrise. He gets up from the cold floor in front of the cold windows that can't open. Shuichi is already dressed, and triple checks everything before leaving his apartment. As cars and people go by him on their ways to wherever- Shuichi finds himself wishing to get run over. It's not even what feels like a sudden thing. 

A thought that slowly curdles in as the woosh of vehicles goes by. With each glint of sun on metal or glass. Every moment of passively existing near the people milling about. A concept like self-sabotage or self-neglect pops up as the pristine look of Shuichi’s school day route fades into something more lackluster. False. 

Facade. 

Just five minutes later has him settle into his seat feeling light-headed. Shuichi blinks around and tries not to notice the now habitual worry. He ignores it, unwilling to acknowledge the growing gap. There's really no point in it when the root causes will be gone soon. Except for him. He's not going to be gone. But. Shuichi could be gone very easily. 

Really, everyone must be so tired of being obligated to care. Why do they still bother? It's not like he deserves it. I can't even stay stable for a year. 

Shuichi swallows a heavy nothingness and tries to wait out the half day.

During class there's nothing but a collection of little thoughts on repeat. Try not to joke about dying. Don't sarcastically say things like 'kill me' or 'time to die'. All that does is hinder you. Make sure that you talk to the girl that hangs out on the roof during lunch sometimes because she occasionally sells sleep aids. Kokichi has to go to a Chess Club meeting. You're alone. 

Class ends and Shuichi can't see his memories of doing work as his own. They're from the point if view that has the boy remembering his own back. His hands twitch towards his phone the moment their teacher sighs, giving up on controlling her normally well mannered class. It just can't be helped due to the holiday coming up tomorrow. 

Tomorrow every goes to Akkey's house for a party. Shuichi will be able to scout the apartment out. He's going to kill it. Finally going to make sure nothing ever happens.

Never. 

"Saihara-kun?" comes a familiar and deeply comforting voice that nevertheless makes Shuichi's body flinch. And it's obvious too, the boy can see it in those purple eyes that he just as quickly averts his own from. Kokichi's expression is... Indescribable. The pinch to those lips and the bend to those eyebrows. A tightness. It looks like the other boy has lost sleep. 

which means that Shuichi must be the reason why. 

He looks back and meets Kokichi's gaze with an easy smile, but says nothing.

What can he say anymore? What can he say about these twisting snakes inside of his guts? Worming around until all he can do is clutch uncaring fabric and scream? His already pained mouth and throat stabbing themselves, his own choice, but for what reason? 

Can't even claw his throat out.

The one doing bad things isn't him. 

The one wanting to do a bad thing isn't him. 

The thing that wants to hurt Kokichi isn't him- so it's fine.

God why can't he just have a brain aneurysm and let Kokichi move on with his life the way they both deserve-

Purple eyes dig into Shuichi's existence like hands into gravestones. 

"I think that you should tell your parents. Or at least," Kokichi says quietly. His hands clench at bag and bento, white knuckled. Shuichi hasn't seen the other boy like this for a long time. "I think that you should talk to me. It doesn't even have to be about anything important.But I'm not going to make you... Whatever the reason is, just let me help. Okay?"

You're selfish for doing this to him. 

Can't do anything right. 

Words catch and fumble inside of Shuichi’s esophagus. They clog his throat and tickle his tongue, bitter. He bites them down while giving Kokichi a soft look that makes the other boy lose some tension. I'll be fine soon and then I'll tell you, Shuichi promises, things are just a bit strange right now. Liar. 

Both of them eat lunch in class and then walk together towards Kokichi's club activities. A small kiss to the forehead, and Shuichi is adjusting the hat on his head. Then he walks away while glancing back at the door. 

Kokichi is safe... 

Eyes made dizzy by a sudden rush of purposeless vertigo snap shut. Chess Club is full of good people. Of people that Kokichi has known for years. Not once has anyone there ever been threatening, except towards Shuichi a long time ago now. It's quite possibly the safest place for Kokichi to be. Akkey has never visited their school before. There's no way that Kokichi would just get up and leave. 

Oh God. 

He has to kill him, he really just has to erase it from the face of the earth. 

Shuichi watches his feet move forward while trying to think up a conversation. He's rehearsed each possibility in his head. That's all he's been doing for so long. Even to the extent of buying unskinned pig parts to practice stabbing, just in case. Swine are supposed to be similar to humans after all. Ah. 

"Yeah... He's definitely a pig, eheh-hhe," the boy murmurs while ascending stairs. 

If that girl from class 2-C isn't around then... He'll have to find another way to get the drug. Not a problem due to planning ahead though. Shuichi has already bought pepper spray and tested it on himself a few times. Dabbing a bit near the eye and mouth. Just in case. 

Akkey is hopefully not the rare person resistant to pepper spray.

Jolts of lead and metal spikes roll around under Shuichi’s collarbones. He remembers the sight of raw meat. Exactly how the one blade got ruined by such repeated stabbing. But it helped Shuichi get used to holding and using a knife like that. A simple thing that anyone can buy from any kind of store. Exactly the same as the sheet that will swiftly slay a monster. 

Those are the thoughts that accompany each step. Up and up, breath oddly laborious, Shuichi keeps his eyes down and his hands on the railing.

Getting to the door and sucking in fresh air shouldn't be hard. Only it very much is and all the boy does is aim his eyes towards passive clouds. He should be checking to make sure that his 'easiest to secure' provider is around. Yet, Shuichi’s aching eyes slowly take in the sun instead. Blue, white- and the celestial object that Kokichi says his eyes resemble.

Sunshine is warm even in the winter.

Maybe Kokichi said that, once.

Blinking, Shuichi rubs his eyes and rests bandaged fingers on the bill of his hat. It takes a moment to gather himself, and to avoid staring at the fence, before his body starts up once more. Chugging along and feeling his back tingle at each little noise. Whether it's his own fragile footsteps or the wind. 

He travels over to the sounds of girls talking, laughter and well natured teasing drifting into curious silence as two girls peek out from a corner. A third walks around and frowns at him. Her eyes are almost severe in their nonchalant gaze- and something tells Shuichi that he should recognize her. She certainly seems to know who he is. 

All the boy can say is that she's that female student from class 2-C. The one that has anything from cannabis to melatonin. Now, it feels strange to say that his school has a friendly and ethical drug dealer whose age is the same as his.

Rich brown hair gets slapped behind the shoulders of a young woman with self confidence. Or, Shuichi coughs and smiles in a way that grows far too brittle at the sight of someone that can probably throw him off the roof. The girl sighs and waves her friends away. Silence and the feeling of rooftop flooring make the boy repress a shudder. It feels like he's walking towards a guillotine.

"You want something to make you sleep. Oh, don't act surprised you little wimp," his peer says while leaning to the left. "Everyone knows that something is wrong with you."

Shuichi tries to act like the iron ball in his chest isn't exploding into shrapnel. If everyone can really tell then Akkey might... Suspect. A possibility like that is unacceptable. There's no way that he can-

Green eyes shut for a second and the girl grunts angrily, her face momentarily contorting into something that Shuichi has seen in the mirror. An expression that he imagines the inside of his heart to look like- all the red and weeping gore twisted up and rotting- reflected. It makes him freeze solid. So does the way that the girl deflates before him. Those eyes dart back to him while his schoolmate flips her skirt to further expose calf length athletic leggings. 

Plus a few zipped up pockets sewn into the skirt. 

"Um."

"Shut up corpse boy."

The boy watches as the zipper is undone so that the girl and search inside. He cringes, looking away despite the casual air. It feels like Shuichi can't breathe even though he's doing nothing that's quite objectively wrong. Seeing what might be biking gear isn't a violation of privacy, and this girl obviously doesn't care. 

“Usually, I don't give this shit to people I don't know. Rando guys get shit that's going to put glowing pride flags in all liquids. Good thing you're pretty, huh?”

Heart stopping. She thinks he's a rapist. She thinks that Shuichi is around the same level of scum as the monster that keeps his phone buzzing with saccharin bile. She has no idea what that joke means to him. The boy chokes as his whole body burns up into nothing. Like space trash trying to make it back into earth. Cold, he's so cold, back and neck stiff with pain. 

He hasn't eaten in two days. 

Then she looks back at him. Shuichi’s prayers for his tears to not be visible yet are squashed, and all he can us try to not get dizzy. Green- a dark green like the leaves of richly colored trees. Just one of the vivid colors that Shuichi sees in the park much less often. A small vial of clear liquid rests in a hand that becomes a fist. 

Blank faced, she murmurs, “I had a friend in first year. Real small…”

“Please d-don't tell me,” Shuichi begs. His vision blurs as she smiles at him. But all the movement of her lips can really be is a grimace. Whatever she's about to say us something he can't handle. 

“Hey,” and the girl walks forward before invading his personal space. Takes his hands, gently, and curls them up around the vial. Looks at him like she's a mother and, “This stuff takes ten to fifteen minutes to work. Hot drinks like tea make sure that the stuff is tasteless. It's undetectable after three to four hours. And like a truck, nothing is really noticeable until it hits.”

Shuichi’s voice hitches out of him in the form of nothing. 

Warm hands disengage to tuck hair back, brushing against a single beauty mark. This person who Shuichi’s brain can't find a single memory of, despite him knowing that he has them, swallows air and laughs as deadly as he himself feels. 

“There's nothing else. I don't know anything, and we're not alluding to anything like the same person,” 2-C forces herself to say calmingly. 

“R...right, I'm going to…” someone says with Shuichi’s vocal cords. 

His dealer smiles viciously.

“You can't do anything looking half dead, pretty boy!” the girl abruptly shouts. She gently puts a warm hand onto his right shoulder and firmly holds him close. 

Then, just as slowly, Shuichi is walked over behind the wall and finds himself sitting in a pile of clothing. A cushion and a few dresses twisted up into something strange. Fluffy bathrobes and thick blankets. He turns his blurry eyes up towards the girl staring down and him and tries to croak a word. Gratitude. Confusion. Distrust. Understanding. 

Nothing. 

Does he even deserve to speak? 

All that comes out is the onset of rapid sobbing. The rest of what would normally be the school day is spent there, with Shuichi alternating between sleeping and crying. Not once does the girl share her name and not once does Shuichi confess. She just holds onto him and murmurs. Even all the concern from people he knows don't mean as much as this, excluding Kokichi. His boyfriend who may as well be everything in the end. It's ironic. 

One of the things that everyone swoons over on TV is turning Shuichi back into a wreck. 

Killing for the one that you love is different in reality. 

But it's not. 

“Saihara!”

Gold eyes once more swollen and red gaze at borderline defiant green. 

“Tell… tell your boyfriend that Chabashira is sorry. About how I treated him back at the start,” the girl eventually requests, her silhouette standing not proud but resolute against the sunset. 

A hoarse promise slips out from bitten lips.

Before they really part, Chabashira tells him that he's a good person. Shuichi isn't sure if he believes her. Yet the past hours feel real in a way that's raw. More than anything else other than buying ice cream with Kokichi last week. The pictures help. Tapping as his phone while walking, vial light in his uniform’s inner pocket, Shuichi smiles down at pictures. 

Ouma Kokichi is looking up at the camera with a happy expression. But the real subject of the picture is the giant sundae in the middle of a wooden table. Shuichi himself sits to the side, looking utterly relieved. The boy remembers being happy inside of that rustic place. An off day, all electronics banned, and they went on a date. Honey ice cream with an interesting sweetness alongside lavender. Kokichi's voice replays inside of Shuichi’s mind. 

“Love you too,” Shuichi says as his feet carry him home. 

It felt like the only real thing had been the two of them. 

Maybe it wasn't real. 

Can't be real but it is. 

He would die to have more days like that. To get back a moment of the new normal that's become so broken. 

Kokichi is standing in front of Shuichi’s apartment building. Purple eyes drift over as the distance between them is eroded. Each step makes each possible emotion level off into apathy. No, not apathy, into Shuichi's sense of self being expelled from his body. Contentment and fuzzy terror combat within his throat. 

Pale hands hold up two bags. One is from a grocery store near Kokichi's home. The other from the ice cream parlor. 

“My boyfriend still likes coffee flavored stuff, right? Let's go talk and eat, Saihara-kun,” the other boy asks as if expecting to be turned away. Tight lips and wounded eyes. 

At this point there's no doubt that Shuichi’s decline and his closed off self has been hurting his dearest loved one. More than his neglecting parents, his distance and twice burnt uncle with his wife, and far more than any of the people calling themselves friends. 

Riding up the elevator feels scripted in the way that Shuichi has been this whole month. It's painful in ways that drag both of them into subzero temperatures. Woozy, again just like that first day after. That's what the boy is as the two if them huddle together. He can no longer understand why the prospect of closeness has caused pain. Logic spoke like it would, but Shuichi can see it for what it was now. 

Paranoia and complete revulsion poisoning him with subconscious nightmares. 

Death is something that safe people do not premeditate upon other people. Even if Akkey isn't a human or person, the body that houses him is. For some people there will be the opinion that the monster is merely a man that decided to make distantly vile choices. Shuichi knows better though, he's seen everything, and Dangan Ronpa is supposed to make a difference. Better, safer, peaceful world. 

Everything needs help once in a while, comes a thought, most especially expiration dates. The boy feels his face spasm into an affronted smile. Kokichi continues to hold onto him as they walk. Hallway carpet makes Shuichi grumble until they reach his door. 

He's not sure what happens next. All he knows is that Kokichi takes his key. Then they're cuddling on the couch as some kind of frozen dairy is being put into Shuichi's mouth. Eyes meet with a quiet kind of decision, and the boys laugh. It's strange. Each particle is outlandish. Happiness, but not, dread but it's light enough that oxygen can enter stinging lungs. Wholesome feelings travel down from Kokichi's fingertips, a wooden spoon, and into the coffee infused coolness that Shuichi eats. 

“You and I should just stay here until the holiday is over, or try to get a doctor appointment,” the other boy says as they watch fish swim. The lights are out, but that just makes the glow of LED lights better. 

They're the only things that have been consistently given care. 

“Can't.”

Looking over again, both of them swaddle in blankets, Kokichi makes a simple demand: “Saihara Shuichi, if you make me lose the first person to ever accept me- then I will die. Don't you dare shut me out, or I will tell on you so damn hard that I'll meet your parents. There is nothing in this world I won't do in order to help you.”

Gulping and closing his eyes is hard. Being able to see that look and hear that voice means far too much. Kokichi is stronger than him. A fact that Shuichi will always know. 

“Someone I knew died,” Shuichi whispers past the sound of waves. “And I learned about things that they did. I cared about them so much. I thought that I could trust them, but now I'm looking back… and I was wrong. They were always awful. They'd wanted to hurt me. All I wanted to do was get away, but I couldn't.”

Never. 

What are you saying? 

Hazy eyes flicker open and take in a look. Disturbing, blank, almost inhuman to the point that Shuichi can barely recognize his boyfriend. Not unlike the look that Kokichi had when Shuichi vehemently denied going into the bedroom. Similar to things that the boy's mind can't articulate. 

“They deserve to be dead.”

Kokichi smiles but the absence of life in his eyes stays the same. 

Enabling. 

“People like that don't get any sympathy. If that's why Saihara-kun is getting like this, then I'm happy that they're dead.”

Lying.

“You… no one should be allowed to hurt you. The same way that Saihara-kun did his best to protect me, I also,” eyes that Shuichi dreams of at night close half way as Kokichi directs them elsewhere, away from Shuichi’s chin and into his eyes, “I want to protect the person I love.”

No one ever meant that! 

And Kokichi means it. 

Fright chokes Shuichi’s everything as the air collects his focus. 

Planning a hunt. Seeing damnation in a sketchbook. Empty space. Kokichi smiling up at him on white day and saying yes. Classmates and others finally seeing reason after months of fighting. Kokichi coming to school with bruises and a glare made out of lighting. Therapy. Grades going down as Shuichi takes up a fight against judging glances and people born too loud. Windows that can't open just in case their son is tempted. New apartment and his parents. Moving process and saying goodbye. Empty space in memories. Unable to really say it and not even having the information to give. Finally going to therapy after a loud screaming nothing. Years, twisting around until he's begging an oddly positioned camera to finally let him die. Empty space with a disarming smile. Flinching at the sound of clapping.

Aunty and Uncle walking in on Shuichi bandaging. 

Going over somewhere and waking up home with empty spaces and the weight of someone smiling.

Not again, Shuichi wants to say to the innocent boy across from him, I don't want it to happen again. 

But it never happened so there's nothing to say. 

Kokichi watches his jaw open and close. 

Why are you living right now? You're sixteen and think that you're capable of love? Is it funny for you to make excuses? Can't I stop pretending that anything like that happened? What kind of sick freak uses that to get mommy and daddy's attention back? 

Pathetic that it didn't work. 

Thin but muscular arms wrap around Shuichi’s torso. Kokichi attaches to him at the side, slipping into the slot between the boy and sofa. It's an action that pushes away the worst of the anything. 

“I'm sorry,” he says to the boy brushing teal hair back. He knows that people would tell him not to apologize. He knows that. He understands and says it anyway, because otherwise won't feel right, because not apologizing would be like forcing Kokichi to care about him. Shuichi’s head finds itself resting on his boyfriend's own, the two of them together like intertwined snakes. 

“Saihara-kun is acting like he's the one saying weird things,” Kokichi says in a voice that grows muffled, “But… I'm the one should be sorry. For not doing this sooner.”

Gold eyes shut again as sleep takes hold. Still. He can't let Kokichi go to sleep feeling like he's done something wrong. The person that has set up a wall is Shuichi. 

"Love you," he says at the same time as the other boy. Shuichi laughs a warped huff as a strange sense of calm rushes of him. He really loves Kokichi. Sometimes, even though he shouldn't… it feels like he's alive for Kokichi too. 

After that, they drift into unconsciousness under glimmering blue, the light distorted by fish and water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Immediate aftercare time. I suggest hot tea with little or no caffeine, curling up somewhere comfy or safe, and eating dark chocolate or whatever else you do to relax or calm down. What you want to do is stay focused on the present and not get caught up by negative thoughts. Breathe steadily, etc. Links of stuff that helps me calm down:
> 
> Cooking videos-  
> https://youtu.be/MX-KFPNnoZ8
> 
> ASMR relaxation videos-  
> https://youtu.be/QSA8PkgxoZE  
> https://youtu.be/5NWABrC0kOI  
> https://youtu.be/pMEv4pX3C3s
> 
> Funny bullshit-  
> https://inspirobot.me/
> 
> Now, important links, hotline and similar, that my brain was too fucky to remember to post last time:
> 
> Child Abuse and suicide-  
> https://www.childhelp.org/hotline/  
> https://www.childwelfare.gov/topics/responding/reporting/how/  
> https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/


	3. A Hive of Scum and Monstrosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuichi goes over to a friendly party that just so happens to take place in Akkey's apartment. This is according to plan. 
> 
> Plans are not followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last chapter after this. Just. God damn it. Soooooooon. Uhhhh new stuff new stuff... 
> 
> Akkey being a fucking creep. Shuichi has to take a shower after getting food all over him. Having to take showers while in the house of someone you don't trust is extremely uncomfortable, I don't recommend it. Just walk home with food on you. Anyway, he's scared out of his mind during it but nothing happens.

“I… I was really relieved when you said that you weren't ready to do that kind of ‘stuff’ with me,” Shuichi croaks as he watches slices of ham cook. He glances over to where Kokichi is nimbly rolling up perfect looking omelets. Blinks away the soreness in his eyes and says, “Because I didn't know if I could- if I would be able to or say anything. Sometimes I don't know if I will be by the time you are? Not because of Ouma-kun, or anything about Ouma-kun, since I'd like to do that someday. Just not now.”

Kokichi's eyes dart at him, “The more I hear about sex the less fun it sounds and the less I want anything to do with it. All intimacy shall be regulated to pure and innocent hand holding or soft-heart smoochies.”

A variety of laugh that can only be likened to a barking groan slips out from Shuichi’s mouth. It's an ugly sound. Yet it makes Kokichi smile before a similar if more quiet laugh joins the chorus. The hints of oil in Shuichi’s pan pops at odd intervals too, and a radio show about Dangan Ronpa is playing, adding a sense of domesticated unease to the apartment. 

“Making our soft hearts smooch would require… drastic measures,” Shuichi eventually coughs. 

He could plunge his face into the p- 

The perfect way that Kokichi makes the boy feels less like the next knock on his door is going to be a malicious stranger, Shuichi screams at his brain. It doesn't fully work. But even in his mind there's nothing that sees that feeling as a lie. Repeating that while tapping his left thigh kind of helps. Kokichi loves him. Even if Shuichi can't possibly tell the other boy what he's planning on executing, he thinks that Kokichi will still love him should the truth come out.

Hopefully. As if. Last night says, yes.

Certain memories from yesterday only pop up when they're once again at the kitchen counters. This time they're washing dishes, scrubbing at smooth white stoneware and limited edition merchandise, ones both old and recent. He would normally feel ashamed of himself for needing help. Kokichi just rolls his eyes and puffs dish soap at him and starts the washing. It's like Shuichi’s mind is blanking out in order to meditate after that. Only for a single fact to hit him right after handing a plate over.

Shuichi coughs lightly, “Uh, Chabashira-san from 2-C says that she's sorry.”

“HhhHhuah?!” Kokichi wheeze-gasps, and near dropping the dish he's drying as he starts coughing-chuckling uncontrollably. 

Laughing doesn't really explain Kokichi's thoughts on the matter. Shuichi can't make himself do anything to stop it though. He listens to Kokichi chuckle and starts to remember exactly who Chabashira is, what she did. It doesn't make him laugh even if it does make him wonder. At least she's not the way that she used to be. 

Both of them finish up the last of their work and start to shrug on coats, quickly walking out of the door and then the building- their steps purposeful and Shuichi’s almost calm. The fact remains that he's planning to case out Akkey's apartment today. He wants it to be all over and behind him. Really and truly six feet under, alongside this monster that creeps along each step. In side of the bus while they hold hands too. As if Shuichi can't get away from it, mind only slightly calmed by the feeling of warmth. He inches closer to Kokichi and tries to breathe.

Nothing more nor less than simple holiday fare. Watching reruns of Dangan Ronpa and talking about the campaign. Ayano will probably be cooking alongside MissMisoBomb. The later is the closest thing to a professional and the former is going to be living alone for a few months. Shuichi would normally try to help…

But it's that thing's apartment. But if he's in a kitchen without Kokichi in that place he'll scream. But the boy can barely imagine holding a knife in there.

An automated voice calls out the name of their stop. Shuichi tries to alert the bus driver only for Kokichi to do it first. The other boy shoots him a small smile. He returns it gladly and helps Kokichi stand when the time comes. It's hard to say what walking towards the outside feels like. Noises of people leak in and the sound of his shoes are loud against metal. Clacking, mixing with others, and the feeling of escaping back into the rest of the world is soured by the sight of a familiar apartment building just a minute away.

"Well, looks like we're going to re-watch V2 for the first time. Not," Kokichi quietly chirps. "This will be the twenty-sixth time."

Shuichi chokes on air as his boyfriend pulls him forward. Twenty-six added to twenty-six is fifty-two! Oh God, that's definitely a great sign. Gold eyes blink up towards the sky while the two boys cross a busy street. He's not going to get run over, which is ultimately nice, and he's going to take it as a sign. Everything will be fine. 

Five minutes later and Shuichi has doubts that everything will be fine.

Entering Akkey's apartment feels nothing like it used to. It's like Shuichi is dying the way his poisonous brain keeps making propaganda for. But he steps inside with a grateful smile, bowing his head and weathering Ayano's sweet-natured excitement. He stares at her hair that moves like water and bites his tongue. Akkey will be setting up everything in the living room. The marathon... 

Parts of the boy wishes for the vial to be in his pocket. That's a pipe dream, however. Shuichi didn't bring it due to this being a scouting mission. 

Yet-

There's so much more than just drugs and hanging. All he needs to do is catch the monster unaware. He can use any kind of long cloth to strangle. Maybe a bludgeon to hit the head. Force bleach down his throat. It. Piercing the eyes with an ice pick. Ears until you reach the brain. Or a single and simple knife from the kitchen. Shuichi can do even more things in order to commit his necessary crime. Go over and just kill by hand. 

Walking into the living room is so very easy. It feels like Shuichi is floating forward all on his own. Kokichi is still next to him though, holding his hand as they sit down all on their own. Glazed eyes watch life through dirty lenses and disbelief. 

Akkey looks casual. 

Like nothing is wrong at all. Like nothing about him is rotting. 

“Very nice set up,” Kokichi mutters while soaking in the heat. Shuichi himself blinks back into focus while glancing down. Borrowed striped shirt that shrunk in the wash. It's calming to see, as if the shirt can protect Kokichi for him. 

Shuichi himself has been so cold lately that he still has a zip up sweater on. A little lie though. He needs an excuse to carry his tools on his person. Blinking harshly and the rubbing at puffy eyes feels disgusting. The boy smiles at his target, prey, “Good morning, Senpai.”

Brown eyes light up before a fond look takes over the beast’s face. Concern that can be nothing but self serving does as well. Shuichi knows now that Akkey cannot possibly, really, care about him. No- this monster only cares about the idea of him. Everything about it. It! Not a person, Shuichi’s brain agrees as he reaffirms his act, no person would do what Shuichi has seen. Just before Kokichi woke up and just before Shuichi gained true awareness. 

Checking his phone on instinct and seeing that new information still has the boy fuming in the inside. 

That… that video. Something sent to a twelve year old. Of his-

Fingernails dig into Shuichi's jean covered thighs. 

Kill him. His mind begs. 

I will, Shuichi follows up as Chabashira’s expression mixes with his own- with the way that Kokichi spoke to him and the innocent cheer that lights up Ayano’s eyes. Melding with the unyielding terror that is existing in the same room as someone, who ruins the safety of children, and that someone's smile. He feels sick and knows that eating might end badly. Stress makes sweat threaten to appear. Gross and yet the boy merely yawns. 

A softer one follows before MissMisoBomb walks in with drinks and a declaration, “It's almost time to watch Amami-kun slowly lose all his friends! Again.”

One bottle of carbonated lemon cayenne something is placed in front of Shuichi. His too pale hands quickly grab at it and twist the cap open for a sip. But he pauses just as the glass touches his lips. There's a chance that he's not the only person with access to drugs. Which shouldn't matter, only one person here would try that. 

Except that they have to know. 

They know what Akkey is. It only makes sense, that these adults who have known one another for so long-

"Food's done!" Ayano says as she enters the room, loud and happy, right before setting down plates full of things that Shuichi can't even comprehend. "Man, you know that this is the first time that I didn't burn anything? Almost everyone made it too. So proud."

If everyone in the adult group knows then why would they allow Akkey to be near minors. Other, of course, than to help their friend prey on children. And that's what Shuichi has been forced to accept. He's never stopped being a child. Getting taller and seeing his body change hasn't made him an adult yet. The simple truth is that he's only a kid still, no matter how much older the boy feels. Shuichi is always going to be the kind of person that these sick fucks dream about and night and he's never ever going to get away from-

"Saihara-kun?" comes the quiet voice of the person sitting next to him, and his gold eyes dart to take in calming purple.

He feels sick.

Reaching up to slowly remove his hat with his left hand, Shuichi smiles nervously and grabs Kokichi's with his right. He's been really cold lately. That's the excuse he uses to shield his face and eyes, these days. Yet there's no reason to keep the hat on in here. Even the ever present chill isn't worth it. 

Looking or acting afraid in front of the monster isn't allowed. Shuichi can't help being sick, but he can help looking weak.

"M'fine," he murmurs while looking down at the empty plate in front of him. Shuichi smiles again as everyone gathers up their food. The boy grabs a few things that look good. 

Nibbling a few things should be fine. Drugging all of them at once is an absurd idea too. Shuichi’s uncle is a detective and everyone knows that. Ayano's father is a police officer too. They call her every other hour and that means that everyone should be safe. Kokichi too, the other boy will never leave Shuichi alone if something happens. All Shuichi has to do is focus and keep himself sane. 

Picking up his chopsticks, and watching the TV switch to the familiar opening and music of season fifty-two, is a blessing. If it's Dangan Ronpa then maybe the boy can hold on. The nausea in his stomach won't win. Shuichi watches the cinematic showcase each character. Yes, this will be fine. He has Kokichi with him, and Shuichi can be strong when protecting more than just himself.

Weakling. 

"You're still sick, huh?" the girl sitting across from him murmurs sadly. 

Ayano sighs while looking at Amami grabbing at a falling document about plot clues. One of the last season's gimmicks. Not that the documents lead to much in the end. For all that they found out, Shuichi recalls, the cast was unable to reach the Golden Ending that those papers encouraged them to create. He frowns and slowly brings something into his mouth. It's very quickly what he discovers to be mapo tofu. Shuichi freezes as his still damaged gums soak in the spiciness. 

Chewing, swallowing, the boy keeps his face calm even as tears build up in his eyes. He grabs his drink and chugs it just a little bit. The heat in his mouth doesn't feel calming but nor does it feel like some kind of self-destructive act. 

"Bit too much for you?" questions the monster in the room. It grins as if to welcome, and Shuichi laughs despite the dread making his stomach a ball of rejection. "It seems like you've been really sick lately..."

Shuichi’s mouth starts replying with something he's seen his reflection say a dozen times, "I have been, but I think I'm getting better now. Still upset about the effects on my grades."

Line. Sinker? 

Brown eyes light up in a way that might count as concern on someone else. On Akkey though, it only means one thing. Can only mean the one horrible thing. Even as the rest of the group starts to talk about it. There's what Shuichi’s mind sees as 'the itch' lighting up in those eyes. He imagines that it's the same look as when Akkey looks at those pictures or reads those things, exactly how the beast looks while writing or drawing down vile fantasies. 

A feeling of unease settles inside of the boy.

Getting this trap all set up should result in a good feeling. Shuichi just feels numb as he eats his little collection of food.

"Oh! There's my absolute best boy, Amami Rantarou!" Ayano says as she perks up, near jumping out of her skin. "He's so innocent and pure at the start. You can tell that he's used to being a bit spoiled. But in the new season promos, man he comes off so cooool!"

"What he comes off as is a mysterious flirt," replies Akkey, prompting a round of laughter. 

Kokichi hums and leans into Shuichi's shoulder, head resting on him. It's comfortable. Like a balm as gross eyes and gross mouths talk in incomprehensible yet understandable language. Sickening, and he knows exactly that now. Gold eyes focus on the lush plant life displayed on screen. The bodies of water in season fifty-two are all stunning. One, an oasis. One modeled off of Lake Eerie. Vast tidal pools. Underground rivers found in chapter five... 

Experiencing such natural beauty with both the characters and his new friends has always been a highlight of this season. That's why it's one of the ones he re-watches the most. So why is he about to cry again? Wasn't yesterday enough? Even though Kokichi is here with him, is the terror making Shuichi’s back and neck tingle really this strong? Can't the sight of these characters calm him?

Yet he knows why. Just as he has for weeks, and God that's too long, Shuichi is aware of exactly what Akkey looks for with these characters. The content he loves to use them as material for. All the same as what he uses them for. Rage flutters and squirms around, mixing until it becomes indignant fuel for more nausea. Shuichi has done his best to avoid being alone with the thing. He really has tried to contain his steadily mounting hate.

Soon, the boy won't have to. Maybe it can even be tonight.

He can sneak back and end it.

But that's a fantasy that would ruin all of Shuichi’s hard work.

Patience is a virtue, is the phrase that pops into his head. The boy eats more food and agrees with the concept. He's waited for almost a whole month. To stay his hands for just a little while longer will be fine. Kokichi's voice is more than calming enough. He even speaks about the odd way that only Amami has been revealed as far. Despite the projected development time being a total of three years, which is around halfway over, Team Dangan Ronpa is acting like they don't have their entire cast picked out. It's relaxing to hear Kokichi be so casual and happy despite everything…

"Amami is attractive but he's just not my type."

Shuichi can wait.

"You're just saying that because he's your height, Akkey."

Everything is fine.

"Goooood God. You guys are worse than my father is! At least he tries to respect my privacy..."

It's alright.

"Well, looks like the token little girl died again."

It-

"He's really such a great big bro type," Ayano says as she gets up with dishes in her hands. The girl sighs again while looking at Shuichi’s mostly full one. "I'll go take these out and all! Gotta learn how to scrub dishes now that my parents are finally going to let me be an adult, el oh el."

Watching the air spin without words, only the strange sensation of being nowhere while his eyes send in badly made photography, Shuichi jerks himself upwards as Kokichi drinks a bottle of water. It feels like he's not even trying to stand at all. As if nothing is happening even though Shuichi can tell that his body is still alive. He can't hear the television because it's paused. Everyone is giving light-hearted holiday speeches.

There's a five second interval between Shuichi stumbling until upright, and Ayano colliding with him. Dishes with still warm lunch fall onto the boy's face. Even the plates themselves hit his body. One edge of a saucer bangs into his forehead, sparking pain and dragging Shuichi back into his body alongside the rest of the shock. Gold eyes struggle to stay shut while he keeps himself still. 

Faint stings turn into a throbbing pain. As Shuichi’s hands instinctively try to wipe away the quiet and the food- the boy finds that there's a still nostalgic feeling fluid on his fingers. Opening his eyes merely confirms it. There's a brightly colored smear on his skin. Blood. 

Voices. There's so much sound that he can't take it. Shuichi looks up at everyone's worried faces. He watches their lips move. He hears Ayano apologize with frustrated tears in her blue eyes. 

"I'll take him to the bathroom and fix him up," Kokichi says. There's something in the tone he uses that make Shuichi feel safe. 

Shuichi holds an offered cloth against his head and says, "Shower."

He refuses to look anywhere other than the ground. The floor. Walking out from the living room and down a hallway both long and short, Shuichi grips his boyfriend's hand the moment they're out of sight. Staring at their hands is helpful. Even if that help is being squashed with each step. The boy looks around wildly, taking in as much as he can, and even looks back to try and see the door. Akkey has bad security is what Shuichi tries to think. 

Entering the bathroom shouldn't be frightening. These knife shaped lumps inside of Shuichi’s throat and chest shouldn't be attacking him. Kokichi is the only person with him. All they're going to do is patch up the wound. Shuichi can take his shower alone, after. 

Alone. 

No, no, no- Shuichi doesn't want to be alone in there. Even if he can lock the doors a thousand times over. The boy stares at the unassuming door and feels like he's going to be sick.

Moments full of fumbling later, he is. Hunched over the toilet and expelling his food into it. Pathetic again. Shuichi keeps being weak, and not even being in a place like this can make him stop. Kokichi is holding onto him in order to help. Those gentle hands brush his hair back while pressing the cloth into Shuichi's cut. Just like yesterday, the boy finds himself giving into the feeling of basic comfort.

"Sorry... Mmm, 'm soory," Shuichi murmurs while the toilet flushes. "I really got sick again."

Kokichi is smiling sadly at him when their eyes meet, "Yeah. But Saihara-kun isn't to blame for it. Hey... If anything happens or changes then I'm still going to be here."

Tell him. He'll help. You know him. You know Kokichi. I can trust him, Shuichi agrees. But I don't want to hurt him.

Golden eyes tiredly watch as Kokichi frowns at all the mess on staining cloth. Most of the food chunks are gone now. Someone must have removed them for me, Shuichi considers. He wonders if the toilet can drown him. The boy grimaces and turns his back on the thing. Whatever nausea he had is gone now anyway. There's no need to look at something making him think that way. Exhaling, Shuichi tries to recapture that anguished relief from yesterday.

"W-" but the boy cuts himself off. He can't possibly ask 'What if I'm the reason why things change?' now. 

Days. All that stands between Shuichi and the execution is a handful of days at most. He can't risk anyone knowing that it's him. Not even his boyfriend, for all that he hopes Kokichi won't hate him.

Anyone sane will hate a killer.

But it doesn't count.

Kill it off already, burn it if you have to. 

Shuichi squeezes his eyes shut and opens them slowly. The pain from his cut is still strong. Each dab is horrible. In other words, it's time for them to go over towards the medicine cabinet and sink. After that will be the eventual shower. Which necessitates getting undressed inside of Akkey's den. 

God, it's not even an apartment anymore.

Over time there's less reason to let his clothing stain. Both boys get up and tend to the cut, Kokichi gently cleaning it, ultimately ending in a waterproof bandage being put over it. Shuichi mumbles 'ouch' and 'hurts' just to see Kokichi purse his lips. It's only fair after all of the antiseptics and painful effort put in. Thankfully, neither of them judge the wound too deep. Heads usually bleed quite a bit too. 

This scrape is doing almost nothing at all. At least after Kokichi is finished.

"Uhm. Ouma-kun?"

His voice light and hesitant- Shuichi grabs onto the other boy's sleeve as quickly as possible. He wants to at least ask. Needs to know if it's alright to not be left alone in this room. And it must show on his face too, because Kokichi's eyes fill up with the soft care that Shuichi drinks in like air.

"Do you want me to stay?" comes a gentle question, Kokichi nearly whispering it as his hands embrace Shuichi’s own. It almost makes the quivering stop. "I'll turn around and wait while you shower or something. Or outside if that's better- maybe hang out in the toilet room since it's separate."

More shudders run down Shuichi’s spine. He's going to break if Kokichi goes back out there. Fear claws at his brain and builds up in his throat like more sickness. It's like his body is about to rip itself apart. Just the same as his brain has been ever since this started. These swirling, churning, acidic sparks that are breaking him down. All of them are his own fault for pursuing this. Shuichi is the person that decided to do this. Even if that's true, and it is… 

Swallowing around emotional shrapnel, eyes itching, "Please. The later. P-please."

You can't leave yet! You can't go back out there, and Shuichi’s mouth opens to say it. To let the horror and the paranoia spill out like his lunch. 

A few minutes later and the heat of the shower is actually nice. Shuichi tries to relax and enjoy it for a bit. Kokichi isn't gone and they should be fine. Able to protect one another, he thinks. Then, he sits down and tries not to cry too much. 

He's even mostly successful. 

"Hey, Saihara-kun's clothing should be clean soon. When it's dry, should I go get it or ask Ayano-chan to bring it to the door?" Kokichi's faint voice asks. 

"Ayano-san..."

Just a few more minutes of the water, Shuichi wants to plead. He looks at the shampoo in front of him and tries to figure out if he wants to smell even slightly like Akkey. The answer is a no. But he puts just a little bit of the body wash into his hair. It's a kind that his uncle uses and that means that Shuichi can pretend. He's just visiting his uncle, the boy tells himself. 

Except that he's not. 

It's easier to turn off the shower and grab the towels than it is to . They're right outside on the door’s handle too. Large and fluffy things that Shuichi can ignore the owning of. At least because Shuichi knows that Kokichi would never violate anyone's priva-

"Kage, Bon, I brought a change of clothes! The dryer isn't quite done yet and I have plenty," Akkey's muffled nonchalantly says. 

Pupils dilate from fear as Shuichi’s head whips in the direction of the door. His heart resumes rapid beating as one hand rubs away just a slice of steam from sliding glass doors. Gulping, the boy looks around and finds himself holding onto a bamboo handle that's attached to a brush. Murder probably isn't possible with this. But Kokichi can get something else. Oh God. He's going to get in here. You're going to have to kill him now.

Wide eyes zero in on a a few teal hairs near the shower drain. Another thought swirls around. 

Akkey wants Shuichi to wear his clothing. 

Bile churns inside of his stomach all over again.

The improvised bludgeon falls into the shower floor with a clatter. All the boy can do is try to breathe, to fight for air, to wonder why he ever thought that coming here was a good idea. Especially when Shuichi’s plan is built on the fact that he can't possibly overpower someone stronger than him. If that monster comes in here then Shuichi would rather kill himself. He doesn't want that thing to see him. 

Shuichi will die if-

Not again-

Rapid and shallow breathing starts up as Shuichi’s entire mind focuses on one fact. There's no way that he'll ever willingly give the pond-scum beyond that door more fuel to destroy his ability to feel clean and whole.

So that means that Shuichi’s hands are just going to be wrapping around that puss filled neck until all the inky ichor that's pretending to be human blood bursts out of him-

Hitches and reedy wheezes escape from Shuichi’s mouth while he backs away from the door. The towels cover him like blankets, and the boy realizes that this feeling of infantile helplessness must be exactly what Akkey wants from a victim. It's certainly the kind of fetishised purity that the man adores. Everything in that repulsive fantasy was like that. Because Akkey wants to ruin everything and anything that Shuichi has ever started to feel safe about. 

Eyesight grows weaker. 

Kokichi coughs slightly before cautiously walking over to the door in the form of a blurry figment, Shuichi wishing to grab and pull him far away. Yet he very clearly says something that makes a sob trickle out from Shuichi’s grimacing lips. 

"I think Shuichi just wants to wait. It's not like we have a time limit, and the episodes are all abbreviated recaps!" Kokichi states. "Besides... I'd be a bit jealous. Maybe next time I'll bring some spare clothing so that you won't feel obligated. At least the dryer is fast, right?"

Silence. 

Eventually, after Shuichi finds himself reaching for the weapon, “Yeah, that makes sense. No real use in changing twice either.”

When the clothing comes, Kokichi puts it on the floor outside of the shower and leaves the room after asking. Shuichi gets dressed while trembling more than he can remember ever doing before. He's stupid and foolish and killing this thing will be impossible. But it's important.

Everything is just more proof in the end.

Killing it is a necessity, a duty, and Shuichi repeats that thought to himself as Kokichi quickly gathers him up. Cold fingers wrap tightly around Shuichi’s hands. Black hair hides a blank face before Kokichi's head sinks into the warmth of freshly dried clothing. It feels like both of them have been apart for years. It feels like Shuichi has been in here for years, stuck inside of plain tomb white walls and knickknacks hiding leers. 

"You only h-had to wait for five minutes," but Shuichi’s teasing doesn't garner a response.

The other boy mutters, “Sometimes I can't help but get really bad feelings. I told everyone that we should all go home early. Let's just go already. Ayano’s dad offered to drop us off since your sick too.”

It really must be obvious in the end. Maybe Shuichi hasn't even been able to hide it at all. But at this point anything like his poor health making his future status obvious doesn't matter. The boy is too drained to keep up his smiling little act anymore. 

Yet, Shuichi still has so much to do. He still has to, needs to, and wants to fulfill his plan. Giving up will never be an option. 

Giving up is worse than dying. 

Giving up means that Shuichi will never forgive himself, that he'll die anyway, and so the boy wraps his own arms around Kokichi in order to pull him closer. The other boy allows it before they starts sinking into one another. All they can take is a small moment of closeness. But really, that's all they need.

House slippers tap against the floor and make them break away from one another. Ayano’s downcast eyes look watery beneath the fringe of her bangs, and Shuichi tries to smile at her. She makes a similarly poor attempt to return it. The girl rubs at her face before sighing. 

Ayano peers up at them and then bows, “I'm really sorry for humiliating you and hurting you, Saihara-senpai! I fucked up. My dad will be here in less than ten minutes, so please take advantage of him!”

“T-take advantage?! Ayano-san,” Shuichi sputters slightly as Kokichi snorts. “Ayano-san didn't do anything wrong… I should have just stayed home and-”

“Please! Please let me apologize,” the girl pleads as her hair hovers. 

Laughter trickles in from the living room and Shuichi can't help his annoyance. For Akkey to ruin even this, just by existing, he really doesn't want that thing to live anymore. Shuichi stares at his underclassman and inhales. 

“I'll, well if I said no then Ouma-kun would scold me. So thank you for getting us a ride!” he finally replies. 

No, this isn't all he has left to do. Shuichi watches himself walk forward as panic grips his heart again. He's so tired of all this. He really just needs to finally finish it all. For that to happen the boy needs to do more than lean on his boyfriend. Much much more, to try harder, Shuichi has to ensure that he'll have access to the apartment. Gold eyes dart from dark wood floors, to bland white wall, and from kitchen to living room. 

What can he use as an excuse to finish setup? 

Shuichi feels the microseconds pass as everyone but Akkey files out of the apartment. He blinks as MissMisoBomb walks off before them, and swallows nothingness while Kokichi and Ayano guide him down the hall. Even though they're escaping, the elevator looks intimidating. 

“Can't believe my parents won't let me stay a second night,” Kokichi groans while looking at his phone.

Their friend just laughs unhappily, “My parents don't even let me go on sleepovers…”

“Forgot hat,” Shuichi states. His hand flies up to his uncovered hair. Most of the time he forgets that he even wears the thing, but, “I'm going to go get my hat. You two just wait here, okay?”

Kokichi's eyes stare into Shuichi's own like little purple bullets. 

“Okay.”

Just four minutes later, Shuichi returns with his hat and a promise. 

Tomorrow he returns in order for ‘tutoring’-

He will, tomorrow, finally kill his nightmare. 

The boy known as Saihara Shuichi smiles largely and utterly genuinely. It's a smile unfettered by fear. Untouched by the spines of that sly little animal he knows as paranoia. Indeed, there's not a hint of his unwanted yet uncontrollable knowing. The boy is simply happy, free- and his smile warm. He greets Ayano’s father with it and accepts the help with proper gratitude. 

Liar.

Even entering the car feels like walking on air. 

Liar. 

When Shuichi gets dropped off before Kokichi, despite the other boy angrily texting his parent the whole time, he just kisses his boyfriend goodbye and promises to get better soon. 

Oh, but aren't you a liar? 

Getting read by prepacking the necessary supplies is easy. Two bags will be needed and both are easy to arrange. One bag will have homework and school materials, but also the tools required to kill. The smaller will have a ‘misplaced workbook’ and miscellaneous items. 

Nothing will go wrong because nothing can, Shuichi tells himself. 

But maybe he's lying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TIME TO WRITE MURDER
> 
> Sorry, I wanted to go more into certain things like Ayano’s dad and all but I'm just 
> 
> 🙃


	4. Butchery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three things die. A fourth thing lives. 
> 
> No survivor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this all over the place until I just skipped to write the murder which flowed, thinking I'd go back, but then I couldn't see the parts unfinished and I'm not sure what to do other than post. I don't know. I think there was... An area where I told myself to do something. But I don't know. I might tomorrow. 
> 
> It's... A murder. There's mentioned stuff. I'm going to write a proper finish because it's just that direct aftermath. But not now. I'm sorry if I don't update the tags to fit better or something but it's graphic and I'm just going to collapse.

There really is only one thing left to do at this point. Shuichi looks away from the mirror as a chill settles deep inside of his bone. It's nothing to do with the concept of killing. Oh, definitely not at all. He's only full of this strange vertigo due to other things. Like the possibility of failure, of the plan being ruined, or of having to deal with Akkey getting too close. Using himself as the bait in a trap is stupid. 

Gold eyes take in the sight of someone that just got out of his sixth shower. The mirror reflects a Saihara Shuichi that looks ill. He's far paler than normal, with almost bruise like bags under his eyes. Blemishes are somewhat flourishing due to a disrupted diet. Stress and less hygiene upkeep aren't helping. Even now that he's once again washed, it feels like he's covered in sweat. Wearing a gray page boy cap isn't helping. 

It's amazing how one can forget that they're more oily and sweaty than average after months of... Motivation to care. 

Dumb and foolish are good words to describe me with, the boy thinks. He's never been so happy about no balcony. No windows that open enough to fall from. 

Shuichi has also never considered it before, but it's actually kind of unsettling that apartment buildings like his exist. Ones built with the idea of preventing suicide in mind. There's nothing that could have a rope strung around it. He has a tub that automatically empties after a certain time too. Unless you press a button. Everything runs on electricity and central heating is a selling point. Just his place alone has a dozen sensors dotted around. Certain other apartments in the complex that have explicit safety features. 

When he first moved in, people came to check on him three times a week. 

He sighs and tugs at the loose cardigan around his shoulders. Even if Shuichi is going to be wearing a jacket on top of it, nothing feels like he's clothed enough. Bringing spare clothing and running shoes just in case is helping the paranoia though. Something like 'I was going to go jogging back home' might work as an excuse if one is needed. Or just a quick explanation of being careful.

Nothing is wrong with being cautious like that. 

Breathing slowly, in and out, Shuichi gathers up his bags and heads out to the door. The boy puts on his coat just as slowly. He has the drugs in the pocket of his cardigan. Even the knife is readily available inside of his 'keep bag'. With those and the evidence waiting in the thumb drive, everything is fine.

"If only Kokichi had been able to stay the night after all," Shuichi mutters. He looks at his door and stands ramrod straight. Then, shaking and feeling sickness clog his throat, he grasps hold of remorseless metal and leaves the bare comfort of his home. 

What is he doing? Why can't he just tell someone? Wouldn't the police do something about it? 

Yet the boy knows full well the answers to those questions. No one ever cares. Truly and honestly, it's never been something that people actually care about. Until seeing that sketchbook and seeing everything else- Shuichi was the same about the surface issue of this. He didn't think about it because it hasn't personally affected him until now. Spending so much time lying that reality changes too, that's the kind of person that Shuichi is. 

People are... Selfish. Humans are self serving. 

Just like him, and Shuichi decides to walk down the stairs. Each step down well crafted wood-metal, covered with rug, and glide of palm down metal-wood is a guillotine. He simply can't help but try to avoid the future. Shuichi laughs from deep in his stomach as his legs start to protest near the end. Leaving out the nearest exit instead of the main one is easy. 

Getting on the bus, off the wrong stop- Shuichi’s body slowly calms as he approaches the location of his act. It takes much longer than any previous visit. Which is clearly something intended, really. This isn't a visit. 

Akkey wants to groom him into doing horrible things. 

Considering what Shuichi is going to do, some measure of success must be acknowledged. Shuichi’s hands grip tightly down on whatever they can. His eyes look up at a shockingly bland apartment building. In a crowd of people that know nothing, but could, the boy feels the tears squirming behind his eyes and stays silent. Endless bodies are flowing and ebbing. They're people with their own lives. 

Today, Shuichi will do something that he's always prayed one of them would do for him.

If it's something that he's prayed for then Shuichi can't be the only one. He shudders and starts moving forward. Akkey isn't innocent. He's hurt other people before, wants to do it more, even beyond anything he might look at- the man is already a monster. Belief, Desire, and Opportunity; those are all things that Akkey has. What it's already taken advantage of.

Hiding things from himself will just make it harder to do this. That's what Shuichi decides as he reminds himself of each disgusting thing he's forced himself to know about. A matter of innocence isn't applicable here. Shuichi steadily approaches the building by circling around, and enters through the side door with the broken camera. Even if it weren't broken, Shuichi’s outfit is things he's never worn before. Right down to his hat. 

Of all the wonderful coincidences for there to be, the fact that Akkey has always been free with information on his apartment's shitty maintenance is a good one. 

Not even monsters expect to get murdered.

Shuichi smiles to himself while approaching the stairs. This time he ascends them with a bounce in his step. Each one fills him with a mixture of dread and anticipation, born from the strangest kind of emotion. A specific word for it doesn't exist. It's a feeling of pain, tight and yet airy under the boy's ribcage, and yet it's also providing energy and bravery. Like bursts of emotional adrenaline spiking throughout Shuichi’s mind. Need for action- need for the fantasy of fruition to finally be fulfilled. Like a want for closure made twisted by… 

The boy gazes at the patterns on the floor, staring down as he forces stiff feeling legs to keep working. He walks, remembering each little detail that makes his chest feel like it's boiling from the inside out. A heaviness and a throbbing sting. Nausea again, cloying tightness in the throat. Shuichi’s hands grow white knuckled as sweat threatens to escape from clammy yet overheated skin.

Pulsing, the boy's heartbeat is at normal speed despite how heavy each throb is. It's all he can feel in at least one way. Fogging over isn't happening yet though. All of him is focused. That's the only reason why Shuichi’s mind is skipping forward like this. 

Gold eyes full of everything, a state of gestalt nothing, stare at a familiar door. There's only a blank minded existence in that moment. A kind of something that utterly wipes away any preparation. Shuichi forgets his research. Re-watching, re-reading, and even his poor attempts at practice. Each second of it vanishes from memory alongside anything else in his head.

It's a plain door.

Brown, with that broken peep hole sitting just off center enough to be noticeable. The visual of it blurs and shifts. Shuichi keeps standing with nothing but air in his brain. Feeling his arms start to ache from unmatched bags, one disposable- the boy blinks to calm itchy eyes. It almost seems like he's going to faint. 

That sensation of his skull and brain colliding is back again. Tingling in the front and getting heavy. 

Feet move until Shuichi is within arm length of the door. One fist raises while the emptiness causes a blissful lack of emotion. 

He knocks on the door as if nothing is happening. 

Only tutoring a sick friend. Help from a kind adult. Indeed, yes of course, that might be the truth for anyone else. Even if Shuichi knows it's weakness to think too, he sincerely wishes that were the case just before he stops knocking. Stupid and foolish can describe him. He even understands exactly why. There's nothing smart about what he's doing. Even more or worse, Shuichi knows full well why he's so ardent to dehumanize Akkey. 

If the boy doesn't then he won't be able to kill. Those self-destructive fantasies that are ultimately ones of suicide aside. Shuichi’s wish to die aside. 

Murdering another human being is wrong. Ending the life of a person is wrong.

Which is why he can't see Akkey as anything other than a monster.

Eyes that itch with a lead like heaviness watch as the door opens a an inch. Then, hands deftly undo a the single chain lock. Shuichi smiles at the thing grinning at him. Akkey, dressed comfortably yet stylishly enough to be on a date, opens the door widely. The adult's stance is open and the boy can't help but see it as a threat. Relaxed arms and a body leaning to the side, front exposed. Both of those same arms connecting the threshold together as if to gate-keep and taunt. If Shuichi were to walk forward...

It would not be the apartment that he walks into. 

Paranoia screams 'purpose!' and 'he knows what he does!'. The not-there voice sounds familiar. Just enough to be unsettling. Enough like a younger Shuichi’s own for the boy to freeze up.

Gray dyed hair shifts as Akkey's expression becomes one of concern. Like mockery, the monster’s easy going pose instantly changes before he frowns. As if a predator like this could ever care. The remainders of Shuichi’s apprehension quiet and die at the sight. Despite that it should be the opposite, all this sudden change does is make Shuichi’s mind remember even better. Start thinking again. He's been having so much trouble compartmentalizing and keeping up that he's forgetting everything. Just how bad it is. 

This is something that sent a homemade masturbation video to a twelve year old. 

Shuichi shouldn't feel bad. It's just that his brain is broken again. Regret at killing the fake human in front of him shouldn't exist.

"Kagehara-kun... Are you sure that you don't want to reschedule? Or maybe just lay down for a little while," Akkey says with pinched brows. "Seriously- you look like you're going to pass out."

Loss for words occurs as Shuichi realizes that he's forgotten how he usually refers to this thing. Did he use 'senpai', 'san', or nothing at all? The boy tries to sift through his memories of the past year. Nothing comes up at first. All he can think is in constantly changing images of chat logs and audio made corrupted. Other than those, it's things branded into his mind by his own auto piloted body. 

Dry mouth and dead mind get pushed aside, because Shuichi has a duty here, "I'll be fine. Just a little cold like I have been. Is it okay if I keep my gloves on?"

Akkey's frown softens while the monster moves to the side. It seems like Shuichi’s request wins, and the boy soon enters the apartment. He looks around for his usual guest slippers and decides to use someone else's instead. Taking off his outermost coat, and putting the smaller bag aside, the boy almost flinches when the door shuts. Yet he stays steady as an eerie sort of calm starts to smother him. 

It's going to be just like Dangan Ronpa, Shuichi tells himself. 

Eyes flicker around to a once homey feeling abode. That sense of safety has always been nothing more than a lie. Just one of endless falsehoods that exist to create weak points. Shuichi’s mind twists along with his stomach. After this, maybe he's going to... 

No. He can't think like that anymore. 

Walking forward with gloves on and the important bag over his shoulder, Shuichi searches for any clear changes in the apartment. 

"Hey, I'm going to make some tea and grab a few snacks. Misa-san bought a cake for yesterday and there's some that she didn't take," Shuichi’s target says while gesturing down towards the low rise table in the living room. It looks much cleaner now.

Shuichi quickly makes his way over to the table and sits down. Facing Akkey, of course, but the boy makes sure to look at the potted plant behind him. He may not be able to pitch his tea out the window due to it being locked. The plant is an absolutely great disposal method. Akkey can't be trusted to try anything other than drugging Shuichi. Because of that, Shuichi can't ingest anything here. Yet he'll have to in order to pass under the radar. 

Blinking, Shuichi glances back over at the thing setting up a tea kettle. The boy slowly exhales before feeling around for his knife and the vial. First he finds the vial in his jacket's pocket, glass smooth. After that Shuichi casually takes out his homework- and peers down at the a casually present knife for a few split seconds. 

Pale hands grow steady as both the main tool and the last resort are located.

Homework is slowly set out upon a plain white surface. Most of his school work isn't actually behind. Still, quite a few small batches are being left behind due to stress. There's mostly math with a few things for science. If Shuichi gets anything done, anything at all, then that's just icing on the cake. All of the paper before him are smokescreen.

Footsteps draw the boy's attention back to his surroundings. Gold eyes glance upward to observe the soon to be deceased body walking towards him. 

"Well, the tea should be ready soon. How about you tell me what we'll be working on tonight?" the thing asks, eager, as if Shuichi would ever stay until nightfall. But it's a small enough slip that the boy says nothing. 

Shuichi adjusts the hat on his head and slowly points out each collection of paper. The class they're for, what it's about, and even how much might get done today. His parents will be calling tonight around five, the boy says. It's important that he gets back home before then. Akkey takes that news in a pleasant manner. Or it at least seems that way. Still, Shuichi can't stop noticing how Akkey is slowly leaning closer.

The boy continues to look up from underneath his hat. Even as equations are explained, and solved, and even as the feelings of suffocation set in. Shuichi watches the owner of this lair like a hawk. All of Akkey's movements or words are filtered through the paranoia that Shuichi now cohabitates with. It's a battle to avoid flinching at even the slightest thing. 

Like a hand on a shoulder or fingers brushing together. 

Erasing a small mistake, Shuichi tries to calm his heart rate. Yet the inherent stupidity of his choice to come here are glaring now. Real life never goes according to some linear plan. He's not going to accept anything like failure though. 

Pale hands scrape cloth covered fingernails into the smooth surface below them. Shuichi perks up when the tea kettle finally screams- something that makes Akkey startle.

"I'll go get that for you, Kage. You keep working on the one with decimals!" Akkey says while standing up. The monster smiles reassuringly. Warm brown eyes alive with a core of something malicious. "Is any kind of tea fine?" 

A faint smile is plastered across Shuichi’s face as he murmurs, "Yeah... And thank you, for this."

Brown eyes once again stare at him. The boy meets them evenly, and Akkey soon turns away in order to get the tea ready. Shuichi takes a moment to rest his hands on where the vial sits. Just inside of his soft cardigan’s pocket with no hints about its presence. Far more reassuring than anything Akkey might do, other than die. Fidgeting, Shuichi’s eyes dart from his school work to personal work. His target doesn't seem to be doing much. 

Only pouring hot water into a teapot and putting said teapot onto a tray with two cups. Gold eyes advert themselves when the monster starts walking back over. Parts of Shuichi’s intestines cramp up with each step, stabbing at him while his stomach screams for food. 

The tray clatters slightly as Akkey's hands set it down. Both cups are left on it, off white ceramic resting on birchwood. 

“Kage and Bon are normally good students. But lately you've both been a bit busy with things, I guess. Like your lives are really spiraling out of control,” comes a soft musing. Gray hair gets tucked back as Akkey looks down. At papers slowly getting filled out and at Shuichi himself. 

Looming- and Shuichi’s heart stops beating at the thought of vulnerability. In just a few seconds of having to look up, from underneath an unfamiliar hat, the boy's body fills with an uncontrollable dread. There's never been another time in his life that Shuichi can point at and say; Despair. Never before this month has he even been able to acknowledge certain things. Shuichi has never been able to accept it. Even after attempts at help, or with therapy and the ever present possibility of medication. 

But now there's only one thought present behind Shuichi’s calm exterior. One paired with stabbing, terror, and the inability to hear a word coming out of Akkey's mouth. 

It's a simple phrase stuck on repeat, manifesting in different ways. 

I don't want it to happen again. 

I'd rather die than let anyone touch me. 

I hate you.

It would be better if you just killed me instead. 

Shuichi’s lips firm another strange smile while his brain throbs. A needy itch burns his hands, from center of palm to tip of finger. He watches Akkey sit down with that same false look of worry. Of concern, of pretending to be a person capable of wanting more than to defile everything possible. Quivers of something primitive flow down Shuichi’s spine. The boy will never do anything even slightly like forgive. 

What about anything like this monster deserves pity, flashes another quick thought. It's a question that Shuichi accepts no answer for. There's nothing in him that will allow it. 

Akkey sighs after saying what might be something about Shuichi being able to trust him. The boy just fidgets, words like ‘I want you to be comfortable’ and ‘Kage, you have a good head on your shoulders’ finally registering. More attempts to gain endearment in the end. Shuichi knows what it really wants from him now. 

The scent of tea eventually fills the air as they get back to work. 

The boy bites back a grimace the whole time. Each second makes the itch of his back get worse and worse. The center of it, like hands touching him with no recourse. 

“I think that I actually forgot something in my other bag-” Shuichi says as he shifts, allowing a cough to escape him. “Give me a moment and I'll go grab it.”

He starts to get up with his eyes drifting towards untouched tea. Take the bait, Shuichi demands. Take the bait, Shuichi begs. Rising up to his knees and getting ready to stand entirely makes him feel like puking. Except that getting sick here is never going to be an option. 

Akkey puts down his cup and quickly says, “No way! I'll go get what you need while you finish up that work sheet. Kage is the sick one here.”

Shuichi sits back down, quietly explaining what he needs, and watches the monster skulk away. Gold eyes burn with beaten back tears, and the boy bursts into motion the moment Akkey vanishes. He gets up, and grabs their teacups before emptying them into the potted plant. It takes a handful of second and still isn't fast enough. Heaving quietly takes more time though. Pale fingers and trembling hands silently set the cup back. 

Panic filled eyes stare at coalescing beads of tea. 

Vial. The vial is in his pocket, Shuichi remembers, and he quickly grabs it from his pocket. Smooth glass and a cheap plastic lid find themselves before twisted apart. 

Noises from the entrance way make the boy flinch as he pours clear liquid into the cup. He watches it run out like water. Flowing, and with neither scent nor color as the remaining tea meets it. 

Chabashira isn't a liar after all. The thought gets Shuichi enough strength to handle the teapot. With nothing less than determination and focus making him move, the boy hides his crime by pouring fresh tea in both cups. 

Everything should be ready for the final step now. 

Returning to his seat is easier than acknowledging the tingling pull in his chest. It's just under his ribcage, as per usual. Gold eyes close while Shuichi listens to the sound of slippers and rustling. Then the boy opens his eyes and gets back to work. His mechanical pencil feels strange now. Like it's going to slip out from his rigid fingers. 

Writing down a ‘4’ results in a sense of hilarity. 

“It's this one, right?”

Akkey looks like the same kind of man he always projects. Friendly, welcoming, an energetic yet mellow personality. It's clear to see why people like that kind of persona and well-kept appearance. Shuichi certainly used to be, and now he has to pretend that he still does. Keeping an even expression is difficult when you're thinking about killing though. 

The next twenty minutes are an exercise in trying not to scream. 

Each sip and gulp of tea brings comforting heat that struggles to stay in Shuichi’s chest. The taste is like nothing but bitterness. He knows that it's the same as always, but the boy can't register anything but tannins. It makes acid rise up in his throat while Akkey just minutely frowns at his tea. 

But there's no reason for a monster to expect it's prey to fight back- and so Akkey quickly drinks while slowly explaining mathematical equations. 

Time passes while the boy grows more and more aware of the one thing. 

Whatever drug Chabashira gave him is working. 

Shuichi’s eyes follow the way that Akkey's head nods. He takes in the sight of drowsiness rapidly overtaking anything like alertness. The rapid blinking and the wavering. Voice starting to get low in pitch while slurring activates. 

A tan hand rubs at drowsy eyes, and the brown there is slowly losing all focus. Relief and a ecstatic thrum of fear tug at Shuichi’s heart. It extends to his pulse, his fingers that claw at jeans, and even his expression. He truly tries to hide the effect that Akkey's weakness has on him. Yet the monster very clearly sees it as his body starts to fall like a lump of iron.

"What... Kagehara? I thhink that you mighe-" narrowed eyes full of confusion blink, bleary. The beast starts to slump to the side as Shuichi’s lips start twisting.

That relief explodes like bubbles. Sour saliva floods over and stagnants against his exposed enamel. More of an empty leer gains ground as Shuichi’s body shakes, "I'm- you're nauseating! Ahhh… Ahahaha, oh God. You're just too disgusting to tolerate anymore. This whole time I had to listen to you? All I wanted to do was this!"

Brown and black stare with nothing but confusion. It's almost like Akkey thinks it's an innocent. Like he's not the wrong one here, as if he's a person just living his life in the way he pretends. Except that this faux-human lying prone on the floor is far worse than just any old monster. 

Monsters aren't supposed to be real. 

Which means one thing. 

Getting up is so much easier than before, and Shuichi’s mile-a-minute heart relishes in how light he feels. The boy then stumbles back as a round of giggles infects him. Hazy eyes float towards the ceiling, and then the corpse to be, before settling on the bag. A nice weight in Shuichi's pocket drives him back to Earth. Yet even kneeling back down to the bag can't stop his flying. 

Everything is going so perfectly, he thinks. After this, he can get better again because if how easy it'll be to start up therapy. He can use the case to excuse it. Finally bring up what happened instead of repressing it. 

Quivering hands reach down and unzip the bag. Not for papers, but for the tools that will allow Shuichi to complete what he's made his life revolve around. The lingering rawness of abused his abused mouth pulse.

There's a strong pounding in his chest. Adrenaline, of course. Shuichi just can't let himself be afraid though. He's only excited and only because it'll finally be over. There's plenty of places in here to hang the man from. While a limp body might be hard to handle, it's safer than any other option. Laughing, gold eyes watch fingers covered by gloves as they dig into a plain white sheet. 

It feels like his eyes belong underwater... 

"You have no idea how much I've just w-wished I could die. Just to stop remembering it all! Just because each message is so full of slime. I could practically feel you leaning over me," Shuichi’s voice rambles out of him in bursts and wavering exhalations, his consciousness ragged. All while his hands bolt around within the bag. The knife finds itself on the floor next to him, the sheet half out, and- "All I can think about is how obvious you were. What you are, how the fuck couldn't I tell?! H-how couldn't I... see the way you treated us?" 

Breathing too fast and thinking even faster proves his undoing. Two hands fighting uncaring cotton, Shuichi’s eyes sting and water.

Weight funnels in. Past a thin sock. Gripping tightly. A hand just above Shuichi’s ankle. 

Choking, the boy's upper body twists to violently that his hat falls off. Two things made of nothing but malfunctioning ocular organs send faulty images that are then processed by screaming neurological tissue. Is Akkey glaring up at him with rage? Is Akkey looking at him with silent pleading for mercy? Is Akkey merely forcing himself to move due to the base instinct to survive? 

Shuichi doesn't care- and he can't care either. All he can register is the hand strangling his ankle. Thus, the hands on his shoulder and the hands caressing his back. Fingers from years ago running down his naked spine. Empty places and empty smiles full of words with no meaning. In these singular moments of eye contact with the worm in front of him. Complete and total unthinking dread melds with jolts of alarm. 

Like a systematic process; Shuichi falls back as if shattering, a hand colliding with what might be a handle, and the boy's face turns blotchy with sweat.

His lips are moving without him now. The room itself is overlapping. Shuichi isn't sure what with, nor what he's saying. All he can do is feel his chest and throat tighten as breathing becomes an affair of sobbing and shallow gasps. Over and over again until that body in front of him makes a sound. 

What kind of sound is it? 

What does Shuichi wish it was? 

What is he going closer for?

Giddiness pools in the fingers wrapped around a useless knife’s . Of course, Shuichi didn't buy it to be anything but a last resort or deterrent. It's not something that exists for combat. 

Yet it rests almost comfortably in his hand. The uncertain grip is fine, says his rapid yet unbeating heart. His nausea too whispers up past malfunctioning lungs. Fear leaks through from the eyes of a limp animal, and Akkey croaks something like an excuse as Shuichi straddles him. Even as the tip of a well-made yet common blade is pointed at it's throat. This pig that shoved it's way into a human body won't admit it. It won't admit what it wants or plans, all it can do is lie.

If all it does is lie, then there's no way that it would stop, which is why-

A limb tries to go towards Shuichi’s body. A hand reaching out to try and grab him again. Shuichi thinks that he gags but all he does is blink, flinch, but then the knife is flying. The invading hand jolts back as if cut. For a precious seconds that lasts a horrific hour, gold eyes see nothing but the vibration of sound. Red soon makes itself known in thin rivets. 

Flowing down tan skin is a fluid. One that Shuichi recognizes from years of familiarity. Just one slice. That's all it takes to draw blood. 

The boy's ears fill with a mocking ring while the rest of him is beholden to astonished apathy. He looks at the weapon in his hand, and then at the pile of vital tissue-organs-areas. Emotions devoid of comprehension crisscross into a passion that churns. It compounds endlessly, but weakly, and forms into nothing but empty space. Filling out and clogging up. Can… can't he just-

Sheets. Warmth. Empty words, empty throat, empty spaces. 

Gold eyes and the feeling of turning them too far towards peripheral vision. Shuichi watches while understanding finally dawns on Akkey's poisonous mind. 

“Writing about us doing that… is sickening. Drawing who he used to be getting raped goes against anything human. Planning on making me your,” but somethings aren't possible to say. Shuichi laughs again, and it sounds like a shuddering whine that claws torn lungs. “Did you think that the boy raised by a private investigator, former police detective, would just let those drawing pass? That's not the kind of thing that's innocent or meaningless.”

Akkey's lips peel back as pain and panic cause thrashing. But the drugs are exactly what Chabashira spoke of. Even the breathing is labored. 

“You don't create or consume things unless you want to. Akkey… didn’t write me fucking my boyfriend for him, calling Ouma-kun a little cock slut, a girl, because of some other reason! People don't send children videos of their dicks because people like you aren't even people! Why do you have to exist around me?”

The scream rings out just the same as the sudden noise below him. Maybe they've been switching too. Shuichi’s vision flip-flops and blurs while his hand tries to return to where is was. Yet the thing he's holding remains sheathed. Brown eyes widen back to ‘awake’, guttural words slipping out the same as when the knife does. 

Red isn't the same as pink. 

Hands come to try and grab him again, frantic, and Shuichi can only imagine a direct future where their positions are reversed; only sees looking up as bedsheets tangle around his limb. 

“Why the fuck can't you just go get help instead of indulging yourself like other humans are candy for you to shit on?!”

Pigs and humans are supposed to be similar to one another. Shuichi plunges his knife back into human flesh, and disagrees. Cutting this meat is totally different. Fingers scratch uselessly at gloves as Akkey tries to force himself up right. The boy retches, wheezes and sobs while yanking and pulling- unable to see at all before almost falling backwards. But his hands clutching onto something, and Shuichi finds himself slashing blindingly at everything in front of him. 

“K… sa-hara…”

Arms and hands alike gain endless cuts before the knife pierces flesh. 

“Why couldn't you have just gone after me instead of people that aren't already ruined?” Shuichi whimpers, nose running, begging for an answer even as he twists the blade. It unsteadily dislodges while accusing squelches fill the room. The boy gags when the knife stabs past the skin of Akkey's abdomen again. 

Everything smells weird. 

“If it were just me then it'd be normal-”

Uncertain laughter and loathing froth inside of his mind. 

Movement, and liquid heat hits Shuichi’s hands when the knife starts to slip. But he can't even begin to make himself stop anymore. Everything pours out through the itching of his fingertips. Thrusts of slowly degrading metal into human meat, each attempt like an alarm going off, but Shuichi is floating away from his body. He watches the air in front of him while blood covered gloves spread stab wounds around like gaping roses. 

“Hha-”

Again, even more- with eyes squeezed so open that the gold of them is meaningless when compared to the ominous buzz of Shuichi’s mind. 

Too many.

Wetness grows sticky as layers and layers of blood grow thick. The heat gathers in corners, it settles between handle and skin. Each new shivering repetition gravitates to a new spot. Slipping here and there as though the knife itself is in control. 

More. 

Like the noise of jam splattering all over the floor. 

Again. 

Until Shuichi is the only thing moving. 

Blood is everywhere that Shuichi can see, too much to be real and yet not enough to be real either. A strong twang fills the air just before a nail consuming crack. 

No, not a crack or twang. A clear note that reverberates through Shuichi’s ears with a cloying snap. Tacky slickness roars alongside blood. Knife has some blade missing, the boy's brain murmurs. He directs his eyes to the empty space where the tip of the blade should be. 

Dents and nicks from unintended use sully the once pristine kitchen implement. 

Shuichi devours metallic air by gulping it down wholeheartedly, and glances down nothingness inside of glazed brown eyes. 

Corpses really do all look the same. 

I'll look like this one day. 

Golden irises and pinprick pupils dart around the room. Snot drips from Shuichi’s nose the same way that tears flood from his eyes. Quickly, frantically, the boy's head bobs when his numb legs force him upwards. He stumbles back and feels how his arms swing freely. In the death grip of his right hand remains the same knife as before. Textured plastic handle, a carving knife or a slicing knife. He only bought it… he only… 

Ankles twist and rotate oddly when the boy walks. Shuichi fumbles his way into the bathtub. He pats at clothing caked with drying blood. Eventually, he pats at his face as burning water hits him. 

What do I do? And he says it with a voice that makes no sound at all. 

What?

Lightheaded, and with his wrist aching alongside the throbbing of his brain, Shuichi washes his hair while wondering where Kokichi went. Even though the other boy should be here-

The apartment is quiet. 

Shuichi stares down at his extra clothing and can't remember who put it there. 

He gets dressed while shivering.

Blinks, and finds himself hazed over at the entrance way. The boy walks back and peers down into the living room, catching his clean reflection in a mirror in the way. Vivid red is strewn around the corpse. All the papers are gone though, and Shuichi nearly rips open his bags to find the blood stained things. Everything is there though, everything is going to be fine. Shuichi zips up his bags and blinks down as the smell sets in. His nose wrinkles and the boy blinks. 

Remembering to check on the proof occurs after Shuichi tries the leave the second time. The boy dry heaves but stumbles towards the computer he knows exists. Already, just a few feet away and all inside of a bedroom that Shuichi can't remember going into, two large monitors are declaring horrendous truths. Shuichi spots his drive and that's the last he sees of it all. 

In a few minutes worth. 

Or must be an hour- 

A cold stone or concrete or brick or something gritty digs into Shuichi's skin as he collapses to the side. 

Hands left fully exposed to winter chill claw at the screen of a smartphone, a familiar voice soon being cut off, “Ohmma- idnt k-know whare aam.”

“What? Saihara-kun, where the hell have you been? It's three in the morning!”

Ugly noises spill from Shuichi’s throat as it finally unclogs. He coughs when it happens, the muscles of his neck aching rhythmically while vile things cover the front of his coat. But it's all gone and out of him with only minimal sobbing. So Shuichi’s mouth blabbering, “I don't know where I am I don't know what happened I'm scared I dintknowthatwouldhappen!”

He stays that way until Kokichi finds him. 

Until two arms pull him up, and drag him home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AFTER CARE IS BEST CARE HELLO
> 
> COOKING  
> https://youtu.be/-VcLA7nXZ7E  
> https://youtu.be/oQHt8o7iIlQ  
> https://youtu.be/x8xkDpqpZ4M
> 
> MUSIC FROM A SERIES ONLY ONE OTHER PERSON IN THIS FANDOM KNOW ABOUT  
> https://youtu.be/o9VIF_CWV2s  
> https://youtu.be/gIO6EAvqDWE 
> 
> COMEDY SHIT  
> https://youtu.be/65lX2VQilAI
> 
> BEE BUTTS  
> https://m.imgur.com/gallery/NlfZUWx
> 
> First thing: under USA law what Akkey did by sending porn to minors was, is, illegal. So is just about everything he did. Second thing, learn the difference between age of consent and age of majority. Third, learn why both of those exist. Fourth, learn obscenity laws. 
> 
> And yes Kokichi is trans here because I can.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi fam I heard you want to know what you're getting into? 
> 
> The least 'insert positive descriptor to be associated with' thing I've ever produced. 
> 
> Shuichi finds out that that his college aged friend, who he and Kokichi roleplay a fangan with, likes to draw porn of Kokichi's eight years oldish and intensely personal character. Then his fear driven, all night, investigation leads him to discovering that the man is exactly what he is and writes disgusting things about Kokichi to boot. 
> 
> He decides to commit murder after further gathering of evidence. Said evidence is not exactly gone into detail because I'd rather fucking die. We're fairly nondescript with watching our main character traumatizing himself out of uncontrollable paranoia and the need to know that truth, over and over, while plotting a murder. 
> 
> So, you can imagine there are mentions/implications of a pedophile being a pedophile. Child Sexual Abuse. Shuichi has a vague nightmare after finding porn of him and Kokichi as written by that pedophile. Etc. Grotesque violations of anything approaching respect, trust, and basic human decency at the very least. Attempted grooming is mentioned. Bunches of fucked shit. 
> 
> There's suicidal thoughts, past and present, and similar mentions of self harm too. 
> 
> Now if you excuse me I'm going to go pretend to be drunk as a form of escapism because fuck this I need an hour before starting the next chapter.


End file.
